An Adjustment of Plans
by L. Mouse
Summary: Soundwave is captured by the Autobots after being severely and permanently damaged in battle.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

* * *

Author's Notes: Still working on Masks. Actually have close to 40K words for Masks not yet posted. Should have a new chapter up shortly. However, this story has been growing in my heart for a bit, and I decided I should tell it. This one is for all my friends who have varying disabilities, and who have ever been treated as less than an adult because of other's assumptions.

I'm going to give some very stern warnings for character deaths, slash (between technically non-gendered robots who use male pronouns), occasional explicit scenes, graphic description of injuries, macabre humor between soldiers who are a bit too used to violence and gore, and a fan-favorite character dealing with the equivalent of a fairly severe head injury. (If you're used to the usual fanfic bonk-on-the-head-with-amnesia form of a story about a head injury? This ain't that sort of story.)

Oh, and unlike Masks, these robots have male bits. It's appropriate to the theme to address the subject of intimacy, so ... yeah. They're a bit more humanoid in the relevant areas than my mechs in Masks.

Should I warn for hurt/comfort? 'Tis hurt/comfort, blatantly so. And a story about redemption and rebuilding one's life and finding new meaning and direction when everything you ever valued has been taken away from you.

Story's G1 influenced, with AU elements, and is not based on the same same pseudoscience I'm using for Masks - this story's a lot closer to more typical fanon.

* * *

Cold rain thrummed down out of a grey cold sky as Ratchet slogged through sloppy mud. The field of battle was a mess in more ways than one: muddy, wet, just below the freezing point of water but not quite cold enough to solidify the mud. The fight had taken place in a junk yard of automobiles that spanned a couple dozen human acres, and the chaotic piles of metal were the biggest mess, because they made scanning for fallen mechs impossible.

Jazz was unaccounted for. Somewhere in this chaotic tangle of scrapped human automobiles, the commander might be buried. Alternately, he could have been kidnapped by the retreating 'cons. They didn't know, and there was too much metal to make scans reliable. Ratchet wasn't panicking yet, but he was hurrying in his search.

Wary of surprises from Decepticons who might have been left behind, he shoved aside a pile of rusted out hulks, revealing only more wrecked and stripped chassis. "Jazz!" he shouted, his voice muffled by the weather. _:JAZZ!: _he called on his comm, at maximum power.

He could hear the others calling and searching. Optimus. Prowl. First Aid. Hound. Wheeljack. Others, anyone who wasn't wounded, or was at least walking wounded.

_:Anything?: _Prowl asked Ratchet over the comm, though it was illogical. Whoever found him was sure to announce it clearly and loudly. The only question would be if that comm call would be one of triumph having found him safe and sound, or one of panic or grief if he was injured or worse.

They'd been looking for an hour. Ratchet personally feared he was a prisoner. He was even more afraid that Jazz might be critically injured, unable to respond to their calls, dying as they looked. There were just so many slagging wrecked human vehicles that one small Autobot sports car could be so easily lost in their midst.

_:Nothing,: _he said, curtly.

And then he saw it ... a Cybertronian hand, flung out from underneath an old, hoodless pickup truck. Ratchet's processor seized with hope for just a click of time before he realized that the hand was far, far too small to belong to Jazz. He ran through the possibilities rapidly, mentally verifying that all of Blaster's symbiotes were accounted for before settling on _Soundwave's cassettes. Which one?_

Wary - because even the little Decepticon symbiotes could be dangerous - he crouched and reached for the hand. It moved far too easily when he tugged on it. It was just an arm. There was no symbiote attached. He recognized Rumble's mods, and noted that the arm was charred badly, and bent and distorted. They'd been throwing some heavy ordinance around and it looked like Rumble must have taken a direct hit.

He subspaced the little limb, though he was grimly doubtful that Rumble would ever need it again.

Jazz was a priority. By the condition of the appendage, Rumble was probably slagged past the point of repair. Still, they were so small ... Ratchet sighed, cursed himself for a fool, and looked around for sign of the casseticon as well as Jazz, now paying attention to spaces too small to hide Jazz.

... _There_. A foot, much larger, was visible in amongst a tangle of old pipes and assorted pure slag. He could see from a hundred feet away that the foot was charred and damaged by a blast. He was half afraid that it wouldn't be attached to anything either, but when he hurried over, the foot was dangling from the end of the leg and the leg led to ... a large, blocky torso that was _not _Jazz's at all.

_:Prowl, get over here,: _he said.

_:Did you find him?: _Hope bloomed in the SIC's voice.

_:No. Downed 'con.: _Ratchet picked his way over, and then shoved aside some of the crap. As he did, someone growled with an almost feral tone. Soundwave's chest was blown open, and the sound had come from _inside _it.

Prowl appeared at a jog, and stopped short, just as whatever - whoever - was inside Soundwave's chest growled wordlessly. "That," Prowl said, voice measured and calm as ever, "Is somewhat creepy."

Ratchet produced Rumble's arm and casually handed it to Prowl. "Here's creepier. I'm willing to bet that Rumble was _in _Soundwave when he got hit."

Prowl took the arm by reflex, stared at it, then hastily tried to give it back, but Ratchet was already approaching Soundwave with his gun out. And smirking. He'd thoroughly distracted Prowl from worrying about Jazz, which was his intent. He didn't think there was much of a threat here - Soundwave was clearly down for the count, and quite possibly dead. He'd taken a direct hit to his torso, and there was little left of his internals from his spark chamber down to his pelvic girdle. That included the docks for his symbiotes. The ground just past him was littered with bits and pieces of dead cassetes - a wing here, a jaw there, a paw, a head so crumpled by the blast that he couldn't identify who it had belonged to.

Again, somebody keened, then sobbed bitterly. "Rumble, Rumble, Rumble, Rumble ..."

Ratchet crouched and peered into the dark, dripping void that was Soundwave's abdominal cavity. He smelled energon and oil, and something electrical sparked and arced with a sizzling snap. There was a real chance of a fire. Whoever was in there had to come out _now_.

"Excuse me," Ratchet said, "Can you hear me?"

Rumble's optics appeared, smeared with soot and Soundwave's bodily fluids. The little mech growled, suddenly fiercely agitated, "Get back! Get back, I won't let you kill him, get back!"

"Kill him?" Prowl snorted. "I think we already did that."

Frenzy growled, low. His optics were wild with grief. "That's _my brother's!_"

He launched himself out of the cavity and directly at Prowl, teeth bared, hands clawed, clearly intending to kill Prowl with his bare hands or die trying. Prowl dropped the incriminating limb, caught Frenzy in one hand, and promptly got bit. He ripped Frenzy off his left hand with his right, then, like a magic trick, Frenzy disappeared from view.

Ratchet stared. "Did just subspace that Decepticon?"

"He's not very big," Prowl said, voice mild but vaguely challenging. "It seemed the best way to deal with him."

Ratchet barked a surprised laugh. "I suppose he'll keep in there."

"Dirty trick I learned from Jazz," Prowl said, and his optics grew shadowed again as he thought about his missing friend and fellow officer.

Ratchet was still a bit distracted by the fact that Prowl had just subspaced another mech. He earnestly hoped that Prowl had nothing dangerous or breakable in his subspace. At least Ratchet didn't think they needed to worry about treating him immediately. By the way Frenzy had moved he didn't think the mech was hurt at all. Likely, he'd not been inside Soundwave when Soundwave had been shot.

Ratchet couldn't help but point out, "Getting him out might be interesting, if he decides to fight."

"And you can help me with that problem later," Prowl's response was very dry. "Medic."

Ratchet snorted. At least it was Frenzy and not Ravage. However, aside from the probability that Frenzy would still be full of fight when they went to retrieve him, Frenzy's brother and the other symbiotes were almost certainly dead. He was actually more concerned that they might be extracting a dead Frenzy whose limbs had locked up in a position that was wider than the diameter of the subspace gate to Prowl's storage space, but he'd enlighten Prowl on that possibility later. In that case, they'd have to cut him into pieces.

If Frenzy was going to follow his brother to the pit, there wasn't much Ratchet could do to stop him. It was his choice to make; living with a broken quantum bond was so painful that some mechs did not find life worthwhile.

He glanced at Prowl, wondering, not for the first time, if the two officers had a relationship beyond close friendship ... obviously, Prowl would _know _Jazz's status if they'd gone so far as to bond themselves, and Prowl, at least, was responsible enough to tell Ratchet under medical confidentiality. However, it was entirely possible that they were lovers, and Ratchet worried about Prowl's mental health if anything truly bad happened to Jazz. Even if they had not gone that far, they were so damned close.

"Are the rest of them dead?" Prowl asked. To his credit, he reached down and picked Rumble's arm back up. Ratchet wasn't actually sure why, though - the only reason he'd kept it initially was in case Rumble might need it later. Then he'd handed it off to Prowl because it had distracted Prowl from other problems, like the missing SIC. Nothing like a gruesomely detached limb to focus a mech on the now rather than the later. It was probably disrespectful to the dead, but Ratchet couldn't summon up all that much concern over dead Decepticons. He'd say all the right words later when they held an obligatory Optimus-decreed service for the dead, but for now, he just didn't give a damn.

He answered Prowl's question, "The cassettes definitely are." He didn't have to scan the body parts blown from Soundwave's chassis to know that. "What hit him?"

"Something Wheeljack has been working on. Sideswipe said something about taking Soundwave out, so I presume he's responsible for this."

"Hnh. Tell Wheeljack it worked, and that I never, ever, want to see it in battle again."

"We are at war," Prowl pointed out.

"And if Sideswipe had been captured?" Ratchet knelt down next to Soundwave. The Decepticon officer looked as dead as his symbiotes, but he wanted to make absolutely sure of this. They'd had too many enemies come back and plague them again after they were declared dead. He waved an aggravated hand at Soundwave's shattered body after his knee contacted the miserable cold mud. "Next time, this damage could be to Optimus."

"Point taken, medic." Prowl sighed.

"Also, as soon as they know something's possible, they'll have Starscream working on creating his own version of it."

That earned him another sigh. He didn't think that Prowl saw things his way. The tactician just wasn't _emotional _enough about stuff like this. He'd appeal, strongly, to Optimus later ... and hopefully Jazz would be around to back him up. Jazz would see this his way, he was certain of it.

A wild, terrible _fear _bloomed in his spark. What if Jazz was gone? Jazz was so important. He _liked _Jazz.

So many dead. So many friends, dead. He wasn't sure he could deal with another loss of that magnitude ... Jazz _had _to be okay. It made him want to snap and snarl and break something just to think about finding a still, cold corpse crumpled into the mud. Instead of allowing himself to imagine that scenario further, however, he turned his attention to the gruesome sight before him.

Soundwave's entire torso was distorted by the force of the explosion, with a huge cavity blown into his abdomin. However, he _was _picking up a residual power signature. It was most likely simply capacitors and power cells that hadn't fully discharged yet as his body powered down for the last time. However, as Ratchet tried to pop the plates open with his hands, Soundwave's hand curled into a fist.

Prowl's gun appeared, whining as it charged.

"Oh, put that away. Probably just residual reflexes." Ratchet really didn't expect to find any actual life signs. The mech's chest was _slagged_. Not only that, his cranial case was cracked, and he could hear the occasional fizz and snap of dripping rain water shorting out neural circuits. The whole side of his head was caved in, actually; it appeared he'd hit the ground head first at a high rate of speed.

Ratchet figured out that the reason he couldn't get the chest plates open was that Soundwave's clavicle strut had been blown out of place, disconnected from the shoulder, and shoved over the top of one of the plates by the force of that impact. He produced a crowbar, levered the strut back off the armor plate, then popped the plates with the bar.

The spark chamber beneath ... was not empty. When he put a hand on the sealed metal case he could feel a weak thrum of energy and a low vibration, a pulse of static electricity. Where there was spark, there was life.

His optic ridges rose upwards, as he rocked back on his heels in honest surprise. The mech was probably going to offline at any minute, and he'd probably have significant neural circuit damage if he survived, but he _was _alive.

He turned to Prowl and said sourly, "Alive. I doubt he'll even survive until we get Skyfire here for transport."

He almost resented this. He wanted to look for Jazz, not waste his time on a dying Decepticon.

Prowl held a hand up, and listened for a moment to an encrypted transmission to Optimus. Then he said, "Megatron just advised they have Jazz."

"_Slag_," he said, with feeling akin to relief as much as worry. Jazz was alive, then, and where there was life there was hope. They could rescue for him, or bargain to get him back. Jazz was a survivor. Jazz might even free himself before they could retrieve him.

Prowl's face was unreadable, his voice cold. He simply said, "We will need Soundwave alive as a bargaining chip."

"I don't even know where to begin," Ratchet complained, running a hand over his faceplates. Swapping a live Soundwave for Jazz would certainly work; Megatron valued him deeply as one of his most loyal officers. However, he could identify at least six different specific points of damage that could kill the mech in the next few minutes.

"... I have complete faith that you will figure that out." Prowl regarded the limb in his hand with frank distaste. "Do you need this?"

"No." He decided that stopping the energon leaks was priority number one, simply because a leak could cause a fire. They didn't need that complication on board Skyfire.

Prowl started to subspace the limb again, then remembered who was in his subspace, and carefully set it down on top of a junked car. The rain was washing the mud off it. Prowl said, "I'll send a team to deal with the bodies later. Skyfire's twelve minutes away."

"Great." Ratchet retrieved his tools. He shoved a bottle of solvent and a wad of rags in Prowl's general direction. "You sop the mess up after I seal each leak. Got a lot of welding to do here. Don't fancy explaining to Megatron why we're trying to exchange a jar of ashes for Jazz if I ignite the energon."

* * *

Twenty-six hours later, Ratchet stumped out of his surgery. He smelled of ozone, fuel, soot, and solder; he had scraped the paint off his forearm while attempting to reach deep into Soundwave's shattered chassis, and he still had mud from the battlefield caked to his knees. Optimus smiled at him as he emerged; Optimus was the only mech in the med bay, and had clearly been waiting for him to emerge.

"How is he?" Optimus asked.

Ratchet shook his head, "He will live, assuming he doesn't chose to follow his cassettes to the Pit out of grief,and because ... well, we need to talk about this in my office. Have we any news on Jazz?"

Only after the door was shut did Optimus say quietly, "Jazz is confirmed alive. Megatron wants Soundwave back badly. He let me talk to Jazz for a minute. Jazz says he's not being badly treated."

"He telling the truth?"

"Prowl thought so. And for what it's worth, Megatron is personally fond of Soundwave. He's expressed a certain degree of eagerness to have him back."

"Good." Ratchet ran a hand over his face, then reached into a cabinet behind his desk and poured himself and Optimus two generous cubes of the best high grade in his stash. Optimus accepted the serving with one lifted optic ridge, but he didn't object. "We probably won't want to give Megatron a full report on Soundwave's degree of damage until he brings Jazz for the exchange."

Optimus frowned. "The agreement with Megatron is that we return him in good working order after repairs - Megatron is well aware that your talents far exceed those of his medical staff."

He smiled briefly at the implied compliment. "Oh, the mechanical mess I've fixed. He's in better repair than he was to start with." Ratchet pressed his lips together for a moment. His opinion of Decepticon medical staff wasn't exactly high. "You saw the damage to his cranial case though, correct?"

Optimus winced. "I feared that was not good."

"Some medics would have let him die." Ratchet tossed back the cube of high grade in one long gulp. It burned going down, and then settled into a pool of unpleasant, churning heat in his tank. He hoped it didn't come back up - he wanted to get thoroughly drunk.

"Can he be repaired?"

"Four million years ago, in a Cybertronian hospital, with the best surgeons in the universe? Yes, mostly. Now ... no. We don't have the equipment or the parts. Nobody does. Not any more." He twisted around to grab the bottle of booze, and poured himself another drink. Then he held the bottle up and looked speculatively at Optimus's cube.

Optimus shook his head, and took a small sip.

"Optimus, he's never going to be the same. I honestly don't know how much auto repair can do ... there's hope, but it'll be hope for a partial recovery. It will not be complete."

"How bad?" Optimus asked.

"There was some physical damage, blunt force, as well as shorting caused by water, to sensory centers. What's gone is gone, and he'll never get it back." He glanced over his drink at Optimus. "Includes the motherboard for his comm circuits and some pretty sophisticated mods that were damaged beyond repair, and I took the liberty of keeping. We can't duplicate 'em now, but maybe someday ... so he won't have an internal comm and I can't replace it because I don't have the parts or the tools."

There were ways around the lack of a comm, and Soundwave would still be able to communicate with Frenzy through their quantum bond, but. However, he didn't miss the irony that Soundwave, the Decepticon's preeminent communications expert, was now effectively deaf and mute to radio frequencies. That was news that would delight Prowl, as it was tactically significant. The 'cons didn't have anyone of anywhere near his skill on Earth to replace him.

"Telepath," Optimus murmured. "Those modifications also?"

Ratchet snorted. "Not any more."

Optimus sighed. "Megatron will blame us."

"Let him," Ratchet snapped. "Point out that they fired the first shot, and the point of having a battle is to slag each other's soldiers up. As far as the remainder of the damage - well, it's a good thing Megatron likes Soundwave. Maybe he'll treat him well. He's going to need constant care for a long time to come ... his reasoning abilities should remain intact, but ... I'm not sure how well he'll _function. _I've got some experience with dealing with this sort of injury, and communicating to the mechs with it. I doubt the 'cons do. They'd normally offline someone with his level of injuries."

"Ratchet?" Optimus asked, voice softer. "How bad?"

"Behind the sensory arrays is the language center, and if you think about it, that makes sense. There's a thousand tiny connections between his motor relays and auditory and visual systems and the language modules for input and output. The water dripped through and fried those connections pretty nigh completely." He drank half his new cube of energon in one long pull. "So what we have is a Decepticon scientist and top commander who cannot understand nor communicate with language - not spoken, not visual - he won't be able to read or write - not comms, not telepathy. He's pretty much slagged, the poor fragger."

"Nothing?" Optimus, predictably, looked utterly appalled. Then he frowned. "How can you think without words?"

Ratchet shook his head. "That's the beauty of this injury - and I have seen it before, by the way. Long war." He stared into his energon for a moment. swirling it around in his cube. "He can _think_. There's nothing wrong with the language modules _themselves_. He just has no language input and no verbal output at all, at least, not until his systems autorepair or rewire around the damage. And like I said, those sorts of repairs tend to be imperfect at best."

Optimus frowned. "But couldn't he just ... write something, if he can't talk?"

"To do that, the sensors in his hands need to talk to the language centers to find out how to shape letters with a stylus, and he needs to be able to visualize letters - by the way, he won't be able to understand his head's up display or his data files or system readouts, either." he drained the rest of his cup, and reached for the bottle. This time, he just took a pull from his bottle. He was going to get thoroughly wasted, as quickly as possible. Injuries like this were his worst nightmare. To be conscious, sane, _intelligen_t, and to be unable to speak or even understand your own system reports?

The last mech he'd known with this sort of injury had killed himself within the first month. Ratchet had never been able to communicate to him that he _might _improve some over time. At least Soundwave had the background education to understand what was going on, if Ratchet could convey to him what the problem was somehow. Maybe a visual display of some sort ... pictures and diagrams. Soundwave had an engineer's training. He'd get it.

Optimus rubbed his forehead with two fingers. "And his symbiotes?"

"Frenzy's in the brig. He's not injured. The others are all dead."

"... get him out of the brig." Optimus couldn't bear to think of the young mech alone, having lost so very much.

"Optimus, he's a 'con." Ratchet had no illusions about just how dangerous they could be. Frenzy'd almost bitten Prowl's finger off when Prowl had removed mech from his subspace storage.

"I have observed that Soundwave is deeply fond of his symbiotes. Perhaps he even loves them. He has lost all but one, and Frenzy has lost them - including his spark twinned brother." Optimus's level blue gaze, full of compassion and worry, met Ratchet's.

"Do you know how many of our side they've killed?" Ratchet normally wouldn't have spoken so frankly to Optimus, but he'd downed at least three cube's worth of high grade.

Optimus leaned across the desk and plucked the bottle out of his grasp.

"Optimus!" Ratchet protested.

The Prime examined the bottle, then observed, "If you want to pass out, there's far less wasteful was of doing it. This is four million years old."

"Slag." He slumped in his chair and ran both hands over his face. The world was spinning a little, but he wasn't as drunk as he wanted to be. "I couldn't begin to _count _the number of deaths that sparkless fragger's responsible for. And now he's helpless, in my med bay, and I feel _sorry _for him. I feel _sympathy _for him."

"Your compassion is one of your strongest traits, Ratchet." Optimus subspaced the bottle. "Would you like me to tell Frenzy what has happened to his master, or would you prefer to do it?"

"I'll do it. It's part of my job." Ratchet gritted his denta for a moment, not looking forward to that discussion. It wasn't fair to shove it off on Optimus, however, who had far too many other duties as it was.

* * *

Frenzy was curled up in a ball, all alone in a large cell. His optics were off but Ratchet could hear soft sobs coming from his vocalizer as he approached. The symbiote could surely hear Ratchet's footsteps, but he didn't move.

He palmed open the cell door, any anger he'd felt towards the symbiote vanishing as he did. They were so _tiny_, and they were subject to the whims of their masters. He just couldn't hate symbiotes. They did not have true free will, not when they were spark-bound. He could hate Soundwave with a cold-sparked passion, but not his cassettes.

"Frenzy," he said, and was unsurprised when the little mech didn't look up. He tried again, "_Frenzy_."

No answer.

He sighed and sat down next to the mech. He asked roughly, "You gonna follow Rumble?"

Frenzy slowly brought his optics online and whispered, "I can't. Not until Soundwave goes. I don't want him to be alone."

"You know he's still alive then?" He wasn't sure, with Soundwave being in deep stasis, how much Frenzy would be able to tell.

"He's gonna die, though. I saw that damage." Frenzy shook his head. "The others are all dead. It's over. It's _over_."

The raw pain in Frenzy's voice made his own vocalizer skip a bit and spit a little static when he tried to respond. He finally managed to say, "Soundwave's going to live."

"What?" Frenzy blinked in surprise.

Ratchet shrugged. "I'm good, what can I say?"

"You shoulda let him die. Without us ... Now they're all dead. It's just me. And him. It's ... not complete." Frenzy let out a soft, ragged sob. He had his arms tightly around his chassis and his optics off again. "I'm not enough. And they're all gone. It's just me. I'm so alone."

Ratchet had been expecting spitting vitriole and vicious insults from the normally scrappy little Decepticon. Frenzy - and his brother - had always seemed to be almost stupidly aggressive. They had delighted in creating violence and mayhem, and okay, issues of free will aside, maybe he could hate them just a little. However, there was none of that nasty little fragger in evidence here. Instead, Frenzy just sounded broken.

"I'm still here for him," Frenzy rocked back and forth. "Until he goes. He'll want to follow them. I'm not enough to keep him here. I'm just _one_. He's lost the other five of us. He'll follow them, you watch. And then I'll go too. I just ... I don't want him to be the last, I don't want him to wake up alone. It's ... it's horrible to be alone. I'm alone right now. I've never been alone. Never."

Ratchet shook his head, understanding the words, but having no real idea of what it was _truly _like to be quantum bound to six other mechs - Soundwave and the other five symbiotes. Before being bound to Soundwave, he'd had his brother from the day he came online. With Soundwave in stasis, and the other five dead, he was alone in his head for the first time in his life.

He looked wretched.

Ratchet didn't know what to make of the sort of devotion that Frenzy seemed to have for his master. He had assumed that the casseticons were the equivalent of slaves, and yet Frenzy clearly, truly, loved Soundwave. He didn't know if was as a lover (the cassette _was _of legal age and had been for awhile - though there were interesting issues of consent therein) or if it was platonic or even a parent/child relationship. But it was clear that Frenzy loved his master beyond all expectations, and he hadn't known many cons who loved others like that.

Tentatively, Ratchet reached a hand out. Frenzy didn't flinch away. He said quietly, "I've repaired what I can. Soundwave has significant neural damage, Frenzy. I need to prepare you for what he will be like when he wakes. You may be the only person who will be able to communicate with him - you are quantum bound to the point of true telepathy with him, yes?"

"Yeah." Frenzy reached a hand out and tried to shove Ratchet's hand off his shoulder. "Don't touch me, Autobot. You'll give me rust."

Ratchet ignored the insults. "He ... suffered significant damage to his language centers. He will not be able to speak, he will not be able to understand speech, including, I suspect, over your quantum bond. The same goes for reading and writing. He has some other damage, but it is minor compared to that. You may be his only link with the world - he _will _be able to feel your emotional state."

"Shoulda let him die, then," Frenzy repeated. "I wouldn't want to live that way. Would _you _want to live that way?"

"He may get some function back, over time. It will help that he is bound to you. You can provide him reassurance and contact."

"He's going to join the others." Frenzy predicted. "And then I'll follow."

Ratchet sighed. He felt almost numb as he said by rote the same words he'd said to far too many mechs with broken bonds. "I can't stop you if you decide to deactivate. I hope that you'll think about it, though, because every life is precious. I know it seems hard now, but ..."

"Don't give me fucking _sympathy_," Frenzy tried to pull himself away. "You slagging Autobots are the ones who killed them! This is your fault!"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. The anger was familiar. They always screamed he didn't understand. The words were expected. He was Autobot. Enemy. A target for blame, even though he resented that blame a bit. The Decepticons had _started _that fight. He rose, and then when Frenzy made no move to get up, he simply scooped the cassette up into his arms. "Come. You'll want to be in the room when I wake Soundwave."

Once upon a time they would have done everything in their power to save a bonded mech who'd lost the other half of his _life_. A long time ago, in what felt like another world, as a medic in training, Ratchet had once spent three months tending one young soldier for a half shift every day. That poor sod had been tied to monitors, his spark artificially stimulated, a feeding tube inserted, his hands and feet restrained. He'd been supervised a hundred percent of the time. Ratchet's job had been to keep him from figuring out a creative way to kill himself; to provide companionship and counseling; to sit with him until he found a reason to live again.

That reason had never come. He was very glad that he had not been on shift the day that the mech had simply ceased to function, systems failing from sheer, endless grief.

Now, in this war-ravaged present, they just didn't have the resources. He didn't have the staff, the equipment, the resources or time, to fight like that for the life of an enemy soldier. If they decided to die, he just couldn't stop them.

Frenzy started to fight Ratchet's arms, which Ratchet had expected. Then he just went limp and unresisting. He turned his face towards Ratchet's chest plates, and didn't say a word during the long walk up to the med bay. Ratchet couldn't help but hold him a little tighter, and with a little more care, than he normally would have an enemy soldier. The mech's pain was just so _raw_.

* * *

Soundwave woke to an incredible array of errors. He knew they were errors by instinct, but the scrolling display of text itemizing the errors across his vision made absolutely no sense. Somehow, he thought, something in his textual representation files had been glitched to the Pit and back.

Automatically, he checked the status of his symbiotes ... and found more errors that he couldn't read. But as consciousness became more clear, he could feel an awful, aching, terrible _emptiness _where once there had been five lives intertwined with his.

_:AsIfd?: _A small, miserable voice said across the bond. He recognized the tone, if not the words.

_:Frenzy ...: _He lifted his head from the berth, looking about for his symbiote. His only symbiote. The others were _gone_, and he was frankly surprised, by the upwelling pit of miserable aching _grief _from Frenzy, that Frenzy had stayed this long and not followed them. Frenzy and Rumble were as close as bonded twins could be, sharing not only the symbiotic connection but their own private bond as well. Sometimes it had been hard for him to tell them apart, to tell where one ended and the other began, and now there was only half ... only Frenzy.

The little casseticon was standing on a chair beside the berth. He said, _:Asif1ds 54igl!ta.:_

Soundwave sighed, and said, "Frenzy, reset language module."

Or ... at least he tried. What his own auditory sensors heard was a random string of nonsense sounds.

Frenzy whimpered. Soundwave couldn't quite manage to control his own worry, and when a flash of his fear and concern crossed the bond between them, Frenzy started sobbing. Soundwave tried to sit up, and found he was strapped to the berth. He had never heard Frenzy cry before - swear, curse, scream, and snarl with anger yes, but not cry.

And then there was an Autobot, moving into his field of view, white and red. It was the medic, Ratchet, and he realized belatedly that they were in the Autobot med bay. Why hadn't he recognized that before? He tensed, expecting abuse, but the Autobot simply rested a surprisingly gentle hand on Frenzy's shoulder for a moment. Then he scooped the kid up and dropped him on the berth next to Soundwave.

Frenzy latched onto Soundwave's chestplates, fingers curling into the armor, crying for all he was worth. Soundwave, confused and more than a little frightened, wanted to put his arms around the kid ... but he was strapped down.

Then the Autobto was releasing his straps. Soundwave considered making a break for it, but he wasn't entirely sure how bad his damage was - he was trying to figure out how to debug his readouts, but it was somewhat hard to work on his own systems when he couldn't understand what alphabet the data was being displayed in. It _had _to be a clever, nasty Autobot hack, rendering all text in a mystery alphabet. He couldn't read his own system files and reports. Anger started to replace the fear. He'd been hacked. _Violated_.

The Autobot caught his hand and Soundwave tried to yank it away. How _dare _they. When he got done with them, when Lord Megatron found out ... oh, he would exact his revenge. He was not one for excess emotions, but he was truly, absolutely, furious.

The medic's grip was immovable. He couldn't free his hand. Frenzy was saying something he couldn't understand. The medic ignored Frenzy's apparent protests, and pressed the palm of Soundwave's hand against the side of his head.

He felt ridged metal, recently welded, and not quite perfect. His visor was gone, not just retracted.

The Autobot turned to monitor on the wall. It snapped on, displaying a graphic photo of the side of his head before the repair - visor blasted off, head _crumpled, _cranial circuits visible through a tear in the metal.

Oh, Primus.

Soundwave knew a fair bit about medicine, and more about neural circuits. He was a hacker by training, a communications expert by inclination, and that meant understanding the hardware engineering as well as the programming. He knew exactly what was underneath that damage.

His arms tightened around Frenzy. He couldn't speak. He couldn't understand. Was the damage total, or were their good circuits in there that he might recover later? He didn't know. But for now, he knew **why **nothing made sense. His tank churned.

Five of his six symbiotes were dead. He was injured, perhaps permanently disabled ...

The medic was showing him more pictures of the damage, with cutaway illustrations showing details. There _were _good circuits there for language, but his comm motherboard was _gone_. The connections between his audio and visual sensors and his language center were fried, but he did have a decent chance of healing somewhat. Given time, given care, he might recover. Hope bloomed, mixed with awful misery. His comm circuits were gone. _Gone_. His career was _over_.

His thoughts spun back to the awful grief in his spark. Ravage. Ratbat. Laserbeak. Buzzsaw. Rumble. Five lives intertwined with his since before the war, each precious to him in ways few could ever understand. He loved them more than life itself.

The other 'cons had no idea, no comprehension, of what it was like to have symbiotes. He'd been careful to keep that knowledge hisd secret. He had lost nearly everything but them. They were his, and he was theirs, and now they were gone but for Frenzy.

He summoned his dignity and stroked Frenzy's head, trying to sooth him - though he doubted there was much he could do. Even had he been able to effectively communicate, there were no words that could ease Frenzy's inconsolable grief. He felt a deep, dark, overwhelming pit of despair blooming around his own spark. If not for the youngling in his arms, he would have simply followed the others. However, he knew in his very spark that if he succumbed to that overwhelming darkness that Frenzy would follow. He wanted to die ... but Frenzy was young, and had so much to live for.

He'd lost symbiotes before. It hurt. But never five at once. Never like this. Never in a place and a time where everything else was so desperate. They were starving, they were not _winning _(though neither were the Autobots), they were a very long way from home and home was devastated and destroyed. Never when he'd lost ... he glanced up at the monitor ... never like this.

Frenzy lifted his head up, looked him in the optics - a rare thing, he always wore his visor, even in recharge - and then slowly drew a finger across his throat. It was a human gesture, but easily understood. Death.

Frenzy smiled faintly, and then stared off into the distance.

He tried to say, _Frenzy: No!_

It came out with a spurt of static, random nonsense syllables, and choking emotion that he didn't want to express. It was a violation of his dignity and pride to be emotional! He could feel the need for release in the casseticon's spark. Frenzy wanted to go to the others. He wanted to go to his twin. However, would leave Soundwave all alone, entirely bereft, without even the ability to _talk_.

_If he goes, I follow. _At least he could feel Frenzy's emotions. If Frenzy left him, he would be devastatingly alone. At the moment, they were so painful they almost physically hurt as they seared across the connection.

And ... there was a sense of _waiting_.

It took him a minute to remember just how loyal Frenzy was. Oh, he professed to be rough and edgy, he pretended to be a tough guy, but Frenzy would die for him. Or, in this case, _live _for him. Frenzy wasn't going to go to join the others until Soundwave went. Likely, he wanted Soundwave to go first, intending to follow. He was waiting for Soundwave to make the first move.

_No_.

He thought of Frenzy laughing. Of the pranks he played. Of his bright intelligence and clever hands. He thought of Frenzy's nascent talent for art, not yet trained or practiced into true skill because there was no time nor supplies, but the kid had a real gift. He had a clever mind and a mischievous sense of humor that Soundwave delighted in. How many times had he felt Frenzy's dark, playful delight across their connection and responded with a better mood of his own?

Frenzy was _young_. He an adult, true, but so _young_. He'd grown up during the war. He had so much to live for that he didn't even _know _about ... and while he would always grieve for his twin and his fellow symbiotes, he _could _go on. Maybe someday the war would be over, and they could even have a happy life.

Except ... except would _Soundwave's _life be worth living?

_Yes_, he decided, tightening his grip ever closer around his symbiote, until Frenzy squirmed a little in discomfort. Frenzy, happy again, would make it worthwhile. Frenzy was all he had left, and he _would _see Frenzy through this and out the other side.

Soundwave eyed the monitor on the wall. He could see how bad the damage was with his own eyes. His gratitude for the medic's actions in showing him the pictures startled him; he wished he could thank him. Ratchet had not assumed him stupid, and he already knew that there were those who would. Ratchet knew what his education level was; had known he retained enough faculties to draw his own conclusions.

He didn't know, and likely Ratchet didn't either, how much he would get back. To be unable to speak, or understand, or read, or write ... to not even be able to comprehend his own system files ... it was a living nightmare. Horror rose, warring with grief. It would be so easy to give up. It was overwhelming. Terrifying. And even in a best case scenario he'd never be _normal _again.

Frenzy was looking at him, optics soft and wide and a little desperate. He could feel that Frenzy wanted to _go_.

_No_, he thought, a firm denial. No words, just a swift rebuke.

Frenzy recoiled, looking hurt.

He tightened his grip again, and pressed the younger mech's head down to his chest. _No_, he thought. _No, no. Live, Frenzy. Live. Frenzy, all I have left. Frenzy, my only symbiote. Frenzy, mine. Frenzy, live. Frenzy, stay with me. I need you. Soundwave needs you. Frenzy, all I have._

Something of his emotions must have reached the kid, if not his words, for Frenzy's tears changed in pitch. He nodded, and Soundwave felt acceptance and agreement. Frenzy would stay, for him. He would not join his brother.

A hand touched his arm. He nearly snarled, an unseemly and undignified reaction to the medic's touch, but he managed to check himself in time. The medic had two cubes of energon on a tray, one small and one large. The big red and white mech clipped the tray to the railing on the edge of the medical berth.

Soundwave picked the smaller one up, and then sipped from the bigger one just as he felt Frenzy's flare of surprise. The medic had his own cube, and saluted them both with a wave of it. High grade, Soundwave realized, and not a bad vintage. Best he'd had in a very long time, in fact. As medically approved anesthetics went, it was probably a lousy choice, but maybe this was about more than just a little judicious light sedation.

There was _communication _in the choice of drink.

At that moment, he could have kissed the Autobot with gratitude. Ratchet's choice of beverage said as clearly as any words - _You're slagged, I know it, but I acknowledge you're still an adult. And so's your cassette._

His expression was sympathetic. The Autobot started to actually reach out and touch him again, to put a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of sorrow and empathy that transcended factions. Soundwave, who generally didn't appreciate being touched by anyone but his symbiotes, tensed on pure reflex, and the Autobot made a fist and lowered his hand to his side.

Ratchet studied him with an odd expression for a long, long moment, a frown touching his lip plates. The Autobot's gaze moved from Frenzy (who was, oblivious to the subtext, downing his drink) and then back up to Soundwave's face, then down again to Soundwave's hand. Soundwave was stroking Frenzy's plating as Frenzy curled against him.

Then the Autobot turned back to the monitor and made it display a string of images: Megatron holding Jazz by the arm, then Jazz running to Optimus while Soundwave and Frenzy returned to Megatron. And then a picture of a sunrise, with the sun moving up above the horizon, then a human clock showing a mid-morning time.

The latter was clever, Soundwave thought. He couldn't read his own chrono, because the data from it was pure text. (And the sudden realization that he didn't know what time it was gave him a whole new sense of disorientation.) Image recognition went through a different set of circuits than language, however. Thankfully, he could recognize _images _- and human clocks, the kind with sweeping arms went through his image processor and not his language processor.

Apparently, he would be traded for Jazz tomorrow morning.

Home. He didn't especially care for his fellow Decepticons, but he'd served Megatron well over the years. He was Megatron's loyal and trusted servant. Given time to heal, he thought he could be useful again - and Megatron had made it clear over the years that he genuinely liked Soundwave. If he couldn't function as his communications expert he knew he could still be quite useful as a general tactician and science officer.

He was very relieved that Megatron found him still worthy of an exchange for Jazz, even with his damage. It validated everything he knew about his relationship with the leader of the Decepticons. Unlike Starscream, Megatron _personally _cared about him.

He looked forward to that exchange. He could go home to his quarters, take care of Frenzy, and ... and Megatron would give him time to recover. He was sure of it. He could be useful again. He _would _be. He _had _to be.

Had that small, frightened sob come unbidden from _his _vocalizer?

He summoned up his pride, and his dignity, and refused to whimper ever again, even as embarrassment flushed through his circuits. He wasn't a sparkling, to cry over unrealized fears. He was a soldier, he was the Decepticon Third in Command, and he _would _be strong.

The Autobot was looking at him with that funny expression again.

"Soundwave, _fine_," he tried to snap, but the words came out as a rush of garbled nonsense sounds that ended in a spit of static.

The Autobot medic ran a hand over his face. Then he seemed to slump in place, and he turned, and he left the room. The door clicked locked after him, but not before he saw that there was a guard just outside. After a moment, the lights in the room dimmed. He supposed they should sleep. It must be night time.

Frenzy was done with his energon. Soundwave popped open the cassette compartment on his torso in invitation to the little mech to rest in safety and comfort.

The little symbiote hesitated for a long moment. Rather than leaping into his slot he reached a small hand into Soundwave's chassis and traced the socket belonging to his brother. Then, mutely, he shook his head, and curled up against Soundwave's side. He felt agitated, hurting, grieving, frightened, worried ... Soundwave wasn't sure if he was refusing to recharge in his slot because it reminded him too much of the others, or if he was remembering how they'd died ... inside Soundwave.

They had died _in _him. He had opened his compartment, thinking they would be safe as they retreated, and then there had been an awful impact and they had died within his own body. His tank churned in reaction to that realization.

He would not show weakness. He would be strong.

He could present an appearance of cool control, but he wasn't fooling Frenzy.

He would be strong.

He would.

He did not cry.

But Frenzy was crying enough for both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two - Adjustment of Plans

* * *

Soundwave woke after an indeterminate amount of time, roused by the faint noise of the opening door. It was nearly soundless, but he was very lightly recharging. He was too miserable to really rest.

The medic padded in, and approached him with an almost soundless tread. Soundwave again contemplated trying to escape, but he still wasn't sure what would happen when he tried to stand up. He felt ... strange ... and it was more than just the lack of language. His sensory circuits had been slagged to the Pit and back.

Ratchet had a datapad in one hand. He handed it to Soundwave, and Soundwave propped himself up on one elbow in order to more easily read it. As he did, he jostled Frenzy, who woke with a very un-Frenzy like whimper. Frenzy's emotions immediately raced across the connection to him with almost overwhelming intensity: loss, fear, grief, anger, denial.

He was very worried about the kid, but he responded to Frenzy with miserable agreement. He'd take Frenzy's emotions and match them with equal levels of searing agony, even if he was keeping his expression impassive. He would not show weakness to this Autobot, but Frenzy knew.

There was comfort in sharing his grief ... though it felt wrong to feel any sort of comfort. He'd failed his charges. He was responsible for them, had vowed to keep them safe in exchange for their servitude and the bond they shared, and he had _failed_.

He would let the Autobot know none of those feelings. It wasn't the other mech's business, and to openly grieve would be to give Ratchet an opening to hurt him. While Frenzy buried his face in Soundwave's shoulder, Soundwave calmly looked at the datapad and stopped petting Frenzy - he didn't want to look like he cared _too _much. Yesterday night he'd been beyond rational thought, but he managed to look cool and emotionless now.

The datapad had a picture of a human clock, the arms motionless, and Megatron's face printed on it. Next to that clock was a second one with moving arms and, presumably, accurate time. It appeared they had around six human hours until he was to be returned.

He nodded understanding. He also wondered why Ratchet was bothering with this.

The medic reached over the top of the datapad and tapped the screen. It changed to a display of half a dozen pictures. He showed Soundwave how to change the display by dragging a finger across the top, causing the datapad to scroll through a large number of images.

He blinked in surprise. Why was Ratchet doing this?

The first six images were of a cube of energon, a red traffic light, a green traffic light, a smiling face, a scowling face, and a face with one optic ridge quirked questioningly upwards.

He mentally tagged them as meaning fuel, stop, go, happy, unhappy, and 'I don't understand' or just a general 'question?' for the last one. At least, he thought he could use them to express those concepts. Though, again, he just didn't understand what the medic stood to gain.

The next set of six got a little more specific - there was a caricature of a mech with dented plating and a grimace of pain, a little animation of a mech washing himself, a mech painting another, mech in handcuffs, wash racks, and a picture of Ratchet supporting Soundwave.

The third set were six pictures of Ratchet, Soundwave, Frenzy, Optimus, Megatron, and - weirdly - Sunstreaker.  
_  
Vocabulary, limited, _Soundwave thought, very darkly amused. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little gratitude that the medic was trying to communicate. He'd never expected to be so kindly treated. His past experiences with Ratchet had generally involved being shot at by a medic who wasn't above killing - and who had the medical knowledge to do so efficiently, and wicked aim with a high powered laser rifle. _Ratchet, steady hands, _Soundwave thought, _precise nature. Traits of good medic. Good marksman, too. _

Ratchet almost absently rested a hand on Soundwave's shoulder as he moved closer. Soundwave tensed on pure, irritated reflex. It had nothing to do with Ratchet being an Autobot and everything to do with _anyone _touching him. Just because he was injured didn't mean he appreciated being fondled by anyone and everyone who thought they had a right to grope his plating ...

He shot Ratchet a dark look of irritation. Frenzy said something that startled him both with its venom and utter unintelligibility. Frenzy was defending him to Ratchet, he realized. Frenzy gesticulated angrily, voice rising in rage.

Ratchet sighed, stepped back, and, with exaggerated motions, slapped himself in the forehead and then shrugged. _I'm an idiot, what can you expect? _Soundwave translated. Then he said soemthing to Frenzy, who responded with another ticked-off string of syllables. The medic persisted, and Frenzy seemed to reluctantly warm up a little bit.

It ... worried him. Ratchet was telling Frenzy something and he had no idea what. He couldn't even question Frenzy after the fact. He didn't like other mechs influencing his cassettes. They were _his_ symbiotes, and he was solely responsible for them. He tolerated Megatron working directly with them, but anyone else among the 'cons knew better than to mess with them at all. There were too many ways they might be hurt, both physically and mentally. He counted unwanted influence as _harm_, too.

Frenzy subsided. The medic sighed again, and - without touching him this time - reached out and started tapping the symbols. When touched, they queued up across the top of the screen.

Mech-in-pain? was the first one he touched, and then he pointed at Soundwave.

Soundwave shook his head in denial of that - he was in no major pain. He didn't think it necessary to tell the medic that he had some minor aches and twinges, and he didn't know how to communicate the _dizzy _sensation he felt when he moved his head too quickly. Then realized with a bit of surprise that a _headshake _was communication. Language, of sorts. The medic also clearly caught that, because he smiled in what looked like real pleasure.

Frenzy asked something. Soundwave tried to understand, earnestly hoping he had more function ... he heard nothing but nonsense sounds, and errors streamed across his head's up display. It was frustrating to try, like attempting to decipher a code-scrambled transmission on the fly, without knowing the cipher. Ratchet responded, sounding bright and happy, and he felt a flare of pleasure from Frenzy.

Ratchet continued, pointing to himself, to Soundwave, to Frenzy, and then to the picture of the wash racks and a mech washing himself. This was followed by the picture of Sunstreaker, and a picture of one mech painting the other, and then Ratchet pointed at Soundwave and made painting gestures with his hand, like he was holding a brush.

Soundwave let a small frown appear on his face to communicate his distaste for that idea, and he tapped the red traffic light. _No. Stop._ He did not want Sunstreaker anywhere near Frenzy, and he wasn't too keen on that mech touching _him_ either. He knew Sunstreaker was an accomplished artist, but why would the Autobots bother to paint him? He could see he was covered in raw welds and even some brand new armor plates covered only in primer, but they _did _have paint on the Nemesis, and he could get Frenzy to fix his appearance later.

The medic flipped to the page with Megatron's face. He tapped it, then flipped back and tapped the paint.

Ah. Megatron had made his body work part of the deal for the exchange for Jazz. It was a petty demand, on Megatron's part, but he wasn't surprised. He also highly doubted that the Autobots had asked Megatron to paint Jazz! He schooled his expression to neutrality, and touched the green traffic light. He would cooperate.

Ratchet nodded, and took the datapad from Soundwave's hand. He found he was very reluctant to let it go. It meant communication, of a sort. What if they didn't give it _back_? He wasn't sure he could even make one like it on his own, as he couldn't read text to program one for himself!

The medic was reaching for him again. Frenzy snapped something, even as Soundwave froze in place. Ratchet simply ran a gentle hand over Frenzy's head comfortingly, then put a hand under Soundwave's elbow and tugged.

_Soundwave, not invalid! _he protested in his own head, shrugging free of his grip. He swung his legs over the edge of the medical berth, and slid off even as Ratchet was moving to lower it.

He expected to land lightly on his feet. However, as soon as he moved quickly, the world spun wildly about. He grabbed desperately for anything to steady himself, frantic not to fall. One of his hands connected with the medic's head as Ratchet was shorter than he was by several feet, and his knuckles rapped Ratchet's cheek arch with enough force that the medic staggered back. He flailed, windmilling his arms and feeling himself falling. Frenzy, no fool, darted across the room and sought shelter on top of a desk. He was going to fall down ...

The medic expertly caught him about the waist, ducked under his arm, put an arm around his back, and steadied him. Ratchet was _solid_, and stable, and the perfect height to hold on to. The medic stood steady, legs braced wide, while Soundwave clung to him. He couldn't tell up from down. He felt like he was on a wildly spinning spacecraft, tumbling about in free fall.

Belatedly, he realized that amid the errors he couldn't read must be something telling him his directional sensors were offline. It hadn't been an issue while he was sitting, except for the occasional bit of vertigo. Now, however, his processor was pinging that sensor repeatedly for orientation ... and then he couldn't translate the responses into useful data. He swayed in place, trying to stand by sheer willpower. Slag, slag, slag. He couldn't even stay upright, much less walk, without help, if he was like this. _Slag._

The medic remained motionless. He expected some sort of negative reaction to the blow he'd given the medic - he'd actually left a mark on Ratchet's face. However, Ratchet didn't retaliate, though his expression was grim when Soundwave looked down at him.

After they'd stood steadily for a minute, the hand wrapped across his back slid down to grasp the edge of his pelvic armor. That felt like it should have been a lover's touch, and he tensed, wondering if he was about to be groped. With sudden, keen, panic he realized that he couldn't even complain to anyone if Ratchet decided to _hurt _him that way ... and he couldn't exactly defend himself. He had a pretty good idea that Optimus wouldn't approve of a one of his soldiers assaulting an injured enemy soldier, but how would he even communicate that he'd been attacked? Point at his interface panel and draw stick figure cartoons of Ratchet and himself?

Slag, he was just so damned vulnerable. A 'con in this condition on the Nemesis would be victimized at every turn and ...

_Slag. _He terminated that line of thought ruthlessly.

_I am Megatron's valued servant, _he reminded himself. Surely, that status would protect him from the worst his fellow mechs could do, just as he'd defended his symbiotes. Surely, Ratchet wouldn't dare do more than cop a feel now.

However, he had sworn to defend his symbiotes and he had _failed._ What if Megatron failed him?

_He won't. Megatron is strong._

That strength - that fierce, uncompromising power - was why Soundwave followed him. That power would be turned to protect him, he told himself. He'd devoted his career, his life, to Megatron because he appreciated working for a strong boss. Surely, he'd earned Megatron's protection - and he firmly believed he deserved the resources that would be spent on assisting him to recover. He could be useful again, very much so. He wasn't stupid. His faculties were intact. He'd contributed so much in the past, and could continue to be useful. He ...

The hand on his hip hadn't moved. Ratchet didn't turn it into a caress. He didn't fondle the wires that were so close to his fingers. He just waited until Soundwave relaxed. It was a medic's professional touch, cool and competent. Soundwave was being supported, not molested.

Soundwave slowly, hesitantly, rested his arm over Ratchet's shoulders, leaning on him for balance. He expected the medic to flinch away from the grip of a dangerous Decepticon, but the body under his touch was sturdy, solid, and unwavering. He felt like a rock. The medic said something in an approving tone, and took a step. Soundwave followed, and the world started wheeling around him again. The medic kept going, though, and Soundwave stared straight ahead, attempting to using his sight to tell up from down, even as his optics attempted to follow the perceived motion.

He didn't want to risk angering the Autobot by not cooperating - while proud of his pride, he wasn't stupid, and he was utterly defenseless. He'd be absolutely as compliant as possible since he couldn't do a slagging thing to defend either himself or Frenzy.

Out in the main med bay, other medical staff - First Aid, Wheeljack - seemed to be doing routine maintenance on one of the minibots. All eyes were on him. Ironhide, who had been guarding the door, trailed after them.

He couldn't stay _upright_. He kept reeling sideways, staggering, his feet not going where they should. The medic grunted a few times with effort, but he had considerably more mass than his height would imply, and his grip on Soundwave's hip was solid. He manhandled and steered Soundwave across the room, then down a short hall to the entrance to a wash rack at the far end. Soundwave expected him to be frustrated by the extreme difficulty he was having, but the medic was utterly patient. Soundwave concluded he was under orders not to maltreat him; the Nemesis's medics certainly would have become frustrated with the waste of time and effort a long time ago.

_Slaggit_. Why couldn't he do something so simple as _walking_?

They were headed towards a wash rack, visible down a short hall on the far side of the med was willing to be that Jazz was currently being interrogated, not bathed.

_Soundwave, safe from interrogation, _he thought, with the blackest of humor, as he pictured how _that _would go. Even if he understood the questions and even if for some unknown reason he wanted to tell them information, he couldn't convey anything more complex than "ouch" or "hungry" at the moment.

He couldn't even understand Frenzy's thoughts, beyond shades of emotions ... it felt truly alien not to be able to reach out to his symbiotes in casual conversation. And now, except for Frenzy, they were dead. He longed so badly to just reach out to Frenzy and express his grief, their shared sorrow, to _talk. _He couldn't even slagging talk to anyone about how badly this hurt, losing all of them. He needed that connection more than he ever would have guessed.

Wait? Where was Frenzy? The kid had been out of squashing range, but in sight, until just a second ago.

He stopped short, and then nearly fell when his momentum threw both of them off balance. Ratchet got in front of him, propped him up, and said something that sounded like a question. The medic tugged at his arm, trying to get him to follow.

_Frenzy, where? _The kid was blocking even his emotions. He couldn't read him. Why was Frenzy guarding himself like that? Were they doing something to him? Where had he _gone_? _:T3iuK**GH!: **_He spat a frantic query across the quantum bond, hearing even as he did that it was complete and total nonsense.

_:dfs!hhth!: _Came back a second later. Frenzy at least sounded more indignant than frightened. Soundwave looked around frantically, and now Ratchet and the medics had twigged to Frenzy's disappearance. They all looked concerned, and were also looking about. Unintelligible comments, sharply worried, passed between them. Ratchet sounded downright snarky, and it was the first time he'd heard real irritation from the mech.

_Frenzy, in trouble! _Soundwave thought with real anger. If Ratchet didn't punish the kid, Soundwave damn well was going to. He hadn't even asked permission for whatever stunt he'd just pulled.  
_  
_A second later Sunstreaker stomped through the doorway, Frenzy gripped by the neck in one of his hands. Ratchet barked a surprised laugh, and shook his head. Soundwave was far less amused. Panic struck him. Apparently, Frenzy had tried to make a break for it and had been caught before getting out the door.

They'd probably throw Frenzy in the brig now. He was _angry_. He never would have sanctioned that escape attempt. They were to be returned to Megatron. There was no point in an escape that might have resulted in Frenzy's injury or even outright termination. Sunstreaker - _Sunstreaker_! - was dangerous, unpredictable, with a hot, violent temper. He had personally taken down seekers in one-on-one combat. He could kill Frenzy as easily as swatting an insect.

And ... and he would be _alone_. A small, scared part of himself didn't want to be alone. He wanted the primitive comfort that holding Frenzy close brought. And now they'd probably take him away, and perhaps hurt him, and he found he was angrier at Frenzy for being stupid than he was at the Autobots for the perceived threat. How often, how damn _often_, had he told Frenzy and Rumble to be more careful? To think before they acted? To stop being so cocky? The two of them were going to get themselves killed if ...

Rumble was dead. His thoughts stuttered to a halt. Rumble was dead, and Frenzy was awfully, terribly, completely alone in the world. Frenzy without Rumble was hard to contemplate. The two of them had been inseparable for their entire lives, and now Frenzy was _alone_, and he was suddenly terrified that when they were separated, Frenzy might just give up. What if he decided to follow his brother?

Soundwave would then be utterly alone in his head, with nobody in the whole universe that he could begin to communicate with.

Frantically, he tried to move towards Sunstreaker and Frenzy, to reclaim his symbiote, his mind on holding him close. Nevermind the unseemly display of emotion, he was going to grab Frenzy and dare the world to take him away. Sunstreaker was vicious, but Soundwave was no slouch in combat himself. He _would _fight them off if they tried to take Frenzy, or die trying.

The unexpected move he made threw Ratchet off balance. Suddenly, Ratchet's hand was ripped from his hip. The medic grabbed for him, but his hands slid over Soundwave's plating without purchase. Soundwave realized he was going to hit the ground a nanoclick before impact. He'd thrown his hands out to stop his fall, but they'd gone in the wrong direction - sideways to his descent. He couldn't tell up from slagging down! With a horrible crash and clatter he sprawled out on his stomach.

Laughter rang out behind him, from Sunstreaker and a couple other mechs. And then Ratchet barked something that sounded pissed. Soundwave managed not to cringe, though he expected that Ratchet would follow that angry snarl with blows and furious kicks. He'd not done as the medic wanted, and Ratchet was ticked off over it.

Frenzy! He had to get up for Frenzy!

No, he had to lay still. He had to be still, and submissive, and obedient. He didn't want to anger the medic further. If Ratchet lost his temper, Frenzy could get hurt.

The room fell silent, probably waiting for Ratchet's explosion of fury.

The world was still spinning. He didn't move.

He heard the medic's footsteps next to his head. Ratchet crouched.

Soundwave couldn't help it. He flinched, and then cursed himself for that weakness.

The hand that touched him, however, was gentle. Fingers tugged at his shoulder, urging him to roll over. He was helped to sit, and then to stand again. The medic didn't say a word, just guided him with efficient, professional touches.

He didn't understand.

They made it the rest of the way into the wash rack without incident. Frenzy had been released, to his absolute immense relief. Ratchet said something tartly angry to him, but neither struck him nor ordered him away.

There was a chair in the wash rack. Ratchet lowered him into it, then stepped back, and just _looked _at him. There was something in the medic's expression that he couldn't identify.

He just didn't understand this at all.

He wished he had a way say, _Thank you_.

* * *

"Frenzy," Ratchet said, halfway between amusement and irritation, as the cassette added degreaser to a bucket of water at his direction, "where did you think you were going, anyway?"

"C'mon, an escape attempt is required," was the cheeky reply.

Ratchet wasn't fooled. Frenzy didn't feel nearly as good as his demeanor suggested. There were deep, dark shadows lurking in the optics of the symbiote. However, he was putting on a good show for the moment. Ratchet responded with a snort, acknowledging the truth of that - and glad to hear that the kid had some spunk left in him. "I suppose. You had to know there was a guard in the hall, though."

"Yeah, but I made him run pretty hard to catch me."

"Well, take it under advisement that I do _not _recommend that you provoke Sunstreaker."

"Yeah? Who _do _you recommend I provoke?"

He let his lips twitch into a smile, annoyance disappearing. He'd never had a chance to talk to the cassette other than to occasionally exchange insults during combat. Frenzy was proving to be genuinely likable, and he truly felt bad about kid's situation. "Well, Prowl's always a good choice."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"_Can _he be provoked?"

"If you're Sunstreaker." Ratchet smiled. "Or his brother - the twins have raised Prowl-provoking to a fine art ..."

The smile vanished off Frenzy's face. In a small voice he said, "Rumble 'n I used to pick on Starscream. He made the best noises if you got him mad enough, but he didn't dare hurt us because ..." he glanced over at Soundwave. "Soundwave could kick his aft. Soundwave isn't going to be kicking any afts now, is he?"

"Not for awhile," Ratchet sighed.

Frenzy's voice got even smaller. "I don't want to go home."

Soundwave made a staticky, consonant-laden noise that lacked all intelligibility. However, his optics were narrowed in what - to Ratchet - looked like a clear display of aggression. Soundwave was very good at hiding his emotions, and his injury hadn't impacted that. Once calm, after he had initially woken and oriented himself, he'd become extremely reserved in demeanor. However, Ratchet was very good at _reading _people - a necessary skill for his job. That was definitely aggression.

This was confirmed by Frenzy's reaction, which was to give Soundwave a worried look. Ratchet didn't think that Frenzy looked at all frightened of Soundwave, but he didn't like to see Soundwave's disapproval. "He doesn't like you talking to me."

Ratchet frowned. "Is he worried I'll hurt you?"

Frenzy shrugged. "Mebbe."

"I don't make a practice of hurting my patients," Ratchet said, for Frenzy's benefit. He sighed, then added, "You want to help me get him clean? If we're going to paint him we need all the dirt off."

"How come ya gonna paint him, anyway?" Frenzy said, though he willingly grabbed a rag. "I don't get it."

"Oh, that's simple." Ratchet smirked. "Megatron demanded that we repair him, including all body work and paint, before we swap him for Jazz."

Frenzy said, with a snort of laughter, "I hope you're not expecting them to do the same for Jazz."

"We'll just be happy to have Jazz back."

"... Soundwave does all our detailing." Frenzy looked up at his master, and pressed his lipplates together in a thin line. "Did, I guess."

Ratchet gave Soundwave a look - the mech sat very still, hands gripping the edge of the armless chair. Soundwave had severe vertigo, and until he figured out how to compensate for his slagged up circuits he was going to be pretty unstable when he tried to move around. He wasn't reading the data from his positional sensors.

He said comfortingly, "If he did your paint before, he can still do it, you know."

"... He's pretty messed up." Frenzy sounded dubious.

"He's not as bad as some. Seriously, Frenzy, it looks bad now, but give him a couple of months. He'll be much better." Ratchet glanced up at Soundwave. Those glittering red optics watched him keenly. Without his visor and blast mask, Soundwave looked far less forbidding. Really, he was a good looking mech, with aristocratic features that seemed surprisingly noble to Ratchet.

There had been _literal _speculation by Autobot intelligence that Soundwave might be a high powered drone, a sparkless AI given mech form. He never showed emotion in public, and he had been believed have one of the biggest processors in existence. Having seen Soundwave's circuits up close, Ratchet could verify that he had the same model of processor as Prowl and at least half a dozen other Autobots Ratchet could name. And even if he hadn't repaired Soundwave's damaged spark chamber with his own two hands, he would not have believed the mech to be sparkless. Not after seeing him cradle his only surviving cassette in his hands with grief written across every line of that handsome face. Not after watching him now, as he tried to hide his fear and worry behind an impassive mask. He wasn't quite succeeding in that attempt. There was tension around his optics and mouth.

He sighed, and squirted detergent onto a rag. Normally, bathing a patient would have been First Aid's job, but for safety reasons he'd decided to do Soundwave himself. He didn't trust Soundwave, and Soundwave was, despite his injuries, a big, powerful, wickedly intelligent mech. First Aid was young, inexperienced, and not as heavily armored as Ratchet.

The mech tensed up as he started scrubbing. He wasn't cringing, but he was definitely unhappy about contact with Ratchet. Ratchet didn't stop washing Soundwave's arm, but he asked Frenzy, "Is there any particular reason why he hates being touched?"

"Aside from a fear of getting cooties from an Autobot?" Frenzy replied.

"Yes." It went beyond that. Perhaps it was just his damaged neural circuits making him wary, but Soundwave immediately reacted with tension whenever Ratchet touched him. Ratchet had worked on his share of enemy soldiers and they generally settled down pretty quickly once they realized that he was a professional, and was not going to abuse his patients in any way.

Frenzy pressed his lipplates together for a second. "No. I don't know."

An honest answer, Ratchet thought. He sighed, and dangled the rag in front of Soundwave's optics. Soundwave grabbed it and started washing himself as much as he could reach, though when he bent forward to scrub at his knees he begant to topple over.

Ratchet grabbed him by the shoulder, righted him, and sighed again when Soundwave went rigid, freezing in place.

"You know," Ratchet experimentally turned the grip on Soundwave's shoulder into a squeeze. "I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay. To tell the truth, you've got my respect for the way you care for Frenzy ..."

Soundwave couldn't understand the words, but Ratchet hoped his tone, along with the brief massage of Soundwave's tight neck cables, would convey his lack of threat. Instead, Soundwave brushed his hand off and fixed Ratchet with a deadly glare, both hands coming up defensively.

Frenzy explained, "He probably thinks you're about to frag him."

"Oh, Primus." Ratchet covered his face with his hand and shook his head. "Do Decepticon medics do that?"

"If the patient was incapacitated and a prisoner or something, and nobody would bother to defend him?" Frenzy shrugged. "Half the army would take advantage. Particularly if he couldn't tell anyone."

Ratchet's tank churned at that casual explanation.

"It's not like he could tell anyone," Frenzy repeated, sounding truly frightened.

"But _you _could."

"Tell who? I'm a prisoner. Who cares what prisoners say?" Frenzy's face turned sullen. "Tattling is a good way to get yourself fragged too."

Very clearly, very precisely, and with cold fury boiling in his tank, Ratchet said, "If _anyone _touches you while you're here in any way that is inappropriate, tell me. If I am not available, tell Optimus, or Prowl. I can promise you that it will be dealt with, swiftly and severely. The last time an Autobot committed such a crime, and what you imply is a _crime _that violates the laws of Primus, that mech was banished and shunned after forced restrictive coding was installed. _I _installed it."

Frenzy blinked, and stared at him.

He had a very bad feeling about sending Soundwave home in this condition - particularly since the deal was that he would be repaired before the exchange for Jazz. Technically, he was 'repaired' in that Ratchet had fixed everything that he could. He still wasn't functional.

He just didn't like it. To Frenzy, Ratchet added, "Look, I'll give you my comm frequency. If you need it, use it."

"Going home later today," Frenzy shrugged.

"Well, you can comm me from the Nemesis, too." Ratchet crouched down, to look Frenzy in the optics. Behind him Soundwave made a protesting noise, and Ratchet ignored that. He needed to talk to the mech who could _understand _him. "Frenzy, look. Your boss's gonna be vulnerable for a long time. Maybe forever. Maybe Megatron will do the right thing and protect him. If he doesn't, though, you want him to be safe, right?"

"Yeah." Frenzy wouldn't meet his gaze. The faux cheer and spunky defiance vanished from his stance. "Yeah, I want him to be safe."

"Frenzy ..." he'd had this conversation with countless kin over the year. He was never sure how they would react, but he sighed, then continued, "Frenzy, do you understand the concept of competency?"

"You mean can he understand enough to make decisions for himself?" Frenzy's tone was still soft. His phrasing surprised Ratchet. The kid was very intelligent, moreso than he'd expected from a tough little punk of a symbiote.

"Yeah, that." Ratchet smiled approvingly.

"Right now, even though he retains many of his intellectual faculties, he is not able to make informed decisions because he cannot understand the information, effectively ask questions, or communicate his wishes. This means that you may have to make some important choices for him, even if he doesn't like what you decide. You may piss him off, he may disagree with what you do, but you have all the data and he doesn't. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"I think so," Frenzy's voice got even smaller. He seemed to be shrinking down inside his plating. "I ... I just want him to be okay." A ghost of humor touched his face as he added, "Right away."

Ratchet sighed. "He will ... be _better_. He is still the Soundwave that you love, Frenzy. But it's going to be a long road and you _must _take charge. It won't be easy, and he probably won't like it much, but out of love for him, you will need to make some decisions for him."

"Why me?" Frenzy hugged himself. Behind him, Soundwave was shifting back and forth in the chair and spitting nonsense syllables. He added, "And he doesn't like you talking to me. He's kinda protective of us."

"It's your responsibility because you love him and you are closest to him." Ratchet glanced back at Soundwave, checking the distance between them. If Soundwave lunged for him, he was within grabbing distance. It would be a very short fight, but he'd learned the hard way not to underestimate the amount of damage a patient could do to a medic. Sometimes injured mechs seemed to have more strength than healthy ones. The dent on his cheek arch that Soundwave had given him accidentally earlier was minor compared to other damage he'd sustained from his own patients.

Jazz, of all mechs, had once ripped two of Ratchet's fingers clean off. Jazz had been hallucinating at the time, out of his mind with a virus. Another time, early in his career, a soldier had come in off the battle field in agony with thermal damage to his plating, and when Ratchet had been too slow to tend to him, he'd snagged a laser scalpel and held it to Ratchet's throat.

Soundwave remained seated. Ratchet slowly relaxed, then, a bit irritated by Soundwave's possessiveness, squeezed Frenzy's shoulder. Frenzy didn't pull away, and didn't seem to mind the touch. He kept his hand on the mech's arm in a comforting touch. Slowly, Frenzy relaxed.

Ratchet said, "You know, I wish we weren't enemies, Frenzy."

Frenzy looked away for a moment, then said, "If ... if I needed it, would you help us ... if Megatron doesn't do the right thing?"

"I would do what I could." Ratchet nodded. Actually, given what Frenzy had implied, he was prepared to do quite a bit, and Frenzy would probably be surprised by how much influence he could muster if he needed to. He simply didn't think it was _right _that the two of them should be in fear of assault from their fellow soldiers. He wasn't sure exactly _what _he would do, but offering them amnesty in exchange for intelligence about the 'cons and a safe place to stay came to mind. Pit. He'd just flat out offer them simple amnesty, if he could talk Optimus into it - and screw any deals. He was a medic first, Soundwave was his patient, and he was, by both his nature, his oaths, and his training, fiercely protective of his patients.

_He's a con. We don't have the resources to spare on a potentially hopeless case, _was soundly and thoroughly trumped by, _He's my patient, and I think there is hope. _

Optimus would completely agree with him on this matter. There were times when Optimus's moral code seemed over the top to Ratchet, but when it came to defending the helpless - and at this point, Soundwave was helpless - neither of them could turn a blind eye.

"Even if it's for Soundwave." Frenzy's tone turned challenging, and even a little angry.

"For any mech. For _you_."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a soft-sparked Autobot medic who swore an oath to Primus before he swore an oath to the Autobots." He rose. "Because I believe we all have basic rights that transcend faction lines. Because I've got a boss who agrees with me. Got it?"

"Yes sir," Frenzy's anger faded. He glanced up at Soundwave, who seemed to have subsided a bit.

Ratchet smiled encouragingly at him. "I ... will talk, if you need to, as well. Just don't get caught by your commanders, got me? Figure you're Soundwave's cassette, you can probably get me a message without anyone knowing about it, though. Bet you know a few tricks with comm systems - It's not about factions, but if you need any advice - medical or otherwise - or if you want to talk to someone who's impartial, I'll be here."

"_Why _are you doing this?" Frenzy threw his hands up. "You want intelligence?"

"Well," Ratchet scratched the side of his nose, "I wouldn't say no if you offered, because Prowl would have my plating if I did, but I'm not asking for any. I'm just worried, is all."

And again, Optimus would agree with his actions - as long as he provided a transcript on request for anything that wasn't medically confidential. This was partly because Optimus had empathy for any mech in a situation like Frenzy, and partly because, with the cold sparked calculation born of thousands of years of war, Optimus knew that forging bonds with enemy soldiers led to new spies or defections.

"Hmph." Frenzy sounded skeptical.

"Anyway. We need to get your boss clean - everywhere, if you get my drift. That weapon they hit you guys leaves a caustic residue that will cause corrosion if we don't scrub it all off, aside from it not being good to paint over any kind of grunge." Ratchet surveyed Soundwave with some unease. "Everywhere. He can't reach his backside. You think he'd be happier with you doing the scrubbing on the bits he can't reach, or you think he'd prefer me to do it?"

Frenzy threw his hands up. "I am _so _not washing Soundwave's aft."

Ratchet snorted a laugh. "You're gonna need to learn, kid."

"Slag. Can we call off going home?"

Ratchet rubbed a hand over his face. "I'll program a maintenance drone. It'll take more time, but it might be less trauma on all of us."

"... I don't think we've got a maintenance drone on the Nemesis that could handle that."

He couldn't help but be a little amused at the kid's complete discomfiture. It was a little cruel of him, but he had to find humor somewhere, and a very young mech squirming over the idea of needing to bathe his elder made him want to snicker. If only the kid knew just how many embarrassing things medics needed to do to patients ... this was _minor_.

He had a whole file of things that Frenzy - or another friend - was going to need to help Soundwave with, some of them far more intimate. The biggest issue Soundwave faced was communications, but the damage to his sensory circuits was going to cause issues with everything from his waste oil reservoirs to his power supply. Since he couldn't read his own errors, nor see many of the parts, somebody was going to need to help him with some fairly involved and intimate maintenance on a regular basis. As his circuits rewired, new problems could arise, too, so in the beginning he would require checks of his systems multiple times a day.

His amusement faded as he thought of Soundwave's likely reaction to the absolutely required care. Frenzy would rise to the occasion, he thought, but Soundwave was so slagging proud. It was not going to be easy for him, Ratchet thought, to adjust to needing help.

* * *

Optimus's trailer bumped to a halt. Soundwave, seated on the floor, didn't actually realize that the trailer had stopped moving until he - belatedly - noticed the lack of tire noise. It still felt like the world was heaving and rolling around him. The lack of a visual input inside the trailer didn't help. He'd transformed, earlier, thinking it might be easier if he subspaced most of his mass and Frenzy carried him about, but that had made it _worse _- something about not being able to move or look around had caused his vertigo to intensify a hundredfold.

He'd hastily reverted back to his root mode and had sat with his vents heaving, frantically blocking his momentary terror from reaching Frenzy.

Frenzy, now seated next to him, hadn't been fooled. He was clinging to Soundwave's side at the moment, too scared to bother looking tough. Only when the bolt on the door rattled did he move away and stand up, jaw setting into a stubborn mask.

The back door opened, admitting brilliant sunlight. He blinked as his optics sent him a few unexpected errors, and were slow to react. Then a shadow fell across the opening, and Ratchet was peering in. Relief flooded him with startling intensity. He hadn't expected to welcome Ratchet's arrive so much. The mech was an _Autobot _- the enemy!

Yet, Ratchet had been unfailingly polite and professional. He'd almost acted like he cared. He had been kind to Frenzy when most Decepticons (including Soundwave himself) would have been angry at him.

_Soundwave, sucker for strong mechs, _Soundwave thought, amused at his own reaction. He _did _like mechs with power, and Ratchet had an unmistakable air of authority.

Ratchet helped him scoot to the edge of the trailer, then signaled he should stay there with an upraised palm in a "stop" signal. Frenzy was saying something to Ratchet, and Ratchet responded with a snort and a laugh.

Frenzy felt ... odd. His presence in Soundwave's spark was muted, with jagged edges and a brittleness that hadn't been there before. However, Soundwave was surprised to feel a brief, genuine flash of pleasure from Frenzy after the exchange with Ratchet. The kid was wounded to the core of his being, and yet he was resilient. A survivor. Something in Soundwave's spark relaxed, just a little bit, as he realized that Frenzy might thrive again someday.

He wanted to see Frenzy happy. He wanted to hear his laugh, see his smile, he wanted to be secretly delighted when the kid executed a well planned prank or delivered a zinging one liner that made Starscream snarl. For now, though, he was just glad to sense that very brief moment of amusement in Frenzy's spark.

The Autobots were moving away - all were looking off to the west, so he supposed the Decepticons were on radar. Since nobody was watching them he briefly ran a hand over Frenzy's back. He was seeking comfort as much as giving it in that gentle touch. Frenzy was _his_, but he was also Frenzy's, and even if everything else had come apart, the two of them at least had one another.

They would be home soon. He planned to go to his own quarters, recharge for about a week, and then ... do whatever he had to, to fix things as much as he could. He needed to talk to Megatron about how to handle his ... issues ... while he was recovering.

He _would _recover, he vowed.

Trepidation warred with defiant denial. His mind was intact. He could be useful, valued, still.

_Talk _to him.

Dark, grim, amusement flickered through Soundwave's spark. He didn't bother to hide this from Frenzy, who glanced up at him. He wished he could share the black humor. He needed to talk to Megatron, and he couldn't even tell his symbiote why he found this so funny. He couldn't slagging talk!

He'd figure something out. Megatron wasn't stupid, and he was more perceptive than most believed. If he had to communicate with stick figure drawings and charades, he'd set his dignity aside and do it.

Frenzy said something, questioningly, softly, uncertainly. Worry flickered across the bond. Frenzy was concerned about why he was amused. _That _was weird, and it made his amusement vanish. Why would his humor worry Frenzy? He was _often _silently amused at the others. It was a rather normal feeling for him.

Should he feel normal? Suddenly, he realized why Frenzy was looking at him with silent concern. Despite everything - the loss of all but Frenzy, the damage - he felt fairly normal. Should be be consumed with fear and anger and grief? He blinked his optics behind the visor that the Autobots had returned to him (in perfect working odor, and cleaner than it had been in ages) and felt weirdly guilty for not being devastated into catatonia.

At his core, he was a pragmatic mech. The loss of the other five cassettes was searingly painful when he focused on it, but he _had _lost other bonds from both his own past masers and other symbiotes. He'd lost a true bond mate once, and had thought the pain alone from that would kill him. He had survived, he _would _survive ... he _had _to, for the little one who was currently leaning up against his plating again. The warmth of Frenzy's small body was comforting, though he would have preferred it if the kid had consented to riding in the security of his own slot.

Frenzy was refusing to return to Soundwave's dock. He'd tried a few times, and the kid had reacted with abject horror and claustrophobic fear. The last time, just before he'd entered Optimus's trailer, the reaction had included flickers of images that had lent some clarity to the reasons for Frenzy's fear.

It seemed that Frenzy had been about to leap though Soundwave's opened armor panels when the missile had hit. He'd been thrown clear and the sudden termination of five quantum bonds had rendered him unconscious. When he'd woken to find Soundwave so critically injured, he had been terrified beyond all measure.

He had desperately wanted Soundwave to live.

And then he had wanted Soundwave to hurry up and die, so he could follow, as the reality of the loss of his twin, and the other cassettes, had sunk in.

But he had lived.

And now Frenzy would not return to his slot, reliving that awful moment every time Soundwave asked.

He stroked Frenzy's back. He wouldn't ask again until Frenzy was ready, but he missed the warmth and comfort that came with keeping his symbiotes in their slots.

_I should have made them load faster, _he thought. If his panels had been closed, perhaps they would have lived.

Had the Autobot aimed for his open cassette dock?

He bet they had. He would have, had their roles been reversed. It was a large opening into his chassis, an easy target.

Slow anger boiled at that thought.

Frenzy was worried again.

He stroked him, but didn't block the link between them now. His emotions, and Frenzy's reactions, were the only real communication he had. Perhaps it was selfish, but they had been together for hundreds of years. They knew each other to the core of their beings. He told himself it wasn't wrong to share his emotions with his symbiote, and Frenzy was not a child, just young.

Frenzy's small hand patted his arm. Normally, Frenzy was not any more touchy-feely than Soundwave was, and this was a somewhat awkward attempt to show sympathy. He covered that small hand with his own and tried to communicate with a squeeze how much he loved the kid.

_At least, _he thought, _at least I have him._

* * *

"Shut UP! SHUT UP!" Starscream's screech of rage was audible over the combined roar of five pairs of thrusters. Megatron didn't know whether to laugh at Starscream's outrage, or blast him on general principles. He couldn't hear what Jazz had just said to Starscream, but it had obviously incensed him.

Fifty feet above the ground, over a barren field that the Autobots had selected for the rendezvous, Starscream flung Jazz hard at the ground. Jazz hit with a crash and Megatron was still torn between amusement and irritation. He didn't particularly want this to turn into a fight - if for no reason other than that the Autobots outnumbered them - but Optimus's expression of shock was absolutely priceless.

As they landed, Jazz was picking himself up. He smirked, saluted Megatron, and said cheerfully, "It was a pleasure, as always."

Something about that tone made Megatron grit his denta. Jazz skipped across the ground to Optimus ... favoring them with an upraised finger as he did. It was a very human gesture, but he'd seen Shockwave's brats exchange that hand sign often enough. He understood it to be a rank, low class insult.

Thoughts of Shockwave made him look over to the mech, who was still seated on Optimus's trailer. Shockwave looked ... odd.

He also looked stunningly handsome. Megatron, mostly in an effort to be irritating, had bargained for Shockwave to be returned not just repaired but with his bodywork complete, his armor repainted, and his entire frame detailed. He scowled at the sight of Soundwave now, recognizing a classic Autobot _response _to that demand - they hadn't just painted him, but someone had given him a paint job worthy of the finest Towers mech. The bastards had turned that demand back on Megatron in a way he couldn't possibly complain about without looking like a complete ninny.

_Optimus, I'm outraged! He looks too pretty! You fulfilled the terms of our deal too well!_

He could already hear Starscream's mocking cackles of laughter.

And ... the truth was, Soundwave looked _gorgeous_. The paint job was Soundwave's familiar colors and design, but the paint itself was a deeply lustrous, metallic, and seemed to practically glow in the sunlight. Every spot of chrome was polished, his glass cleaned, and the struts and wires visible through cracks in his armor had been retouched to a rich, deep matte black.

He'd long ago admitted that Soundwave was a good looking mech. Soundwave was pointedly not interested in interfacing (with anyone). Megatron had coaxed him into 'facing a few times anyway, then had given that up as being less rewarding than it sounded. Soundwave had just been too polite about it. If Megatron wanted to 'face him he would spread his legs wide and let him, without complaint, and with technically good skill, but there had not been any passion evident from him.

Since Megatron preferred his lovers with a little more enthusiasm, he'd given up. Soundwave was pretty, but he just wasn't much fun in the berth. And he _was _a good officer, and Megatron knew the mech was truly loyal.

However, as he studied Soundwav now, he realized there was something was wrong. Soundwave hadn't moved, hadn't said a word, had not even stood up, but Frenzy looked terrified. Frenzy was not good at hiding his emotions at all, and Megatron often used him - and the other blasted little glitches - as barometers to judge Soundwave's real mood. He'd determined long ago that Soundwave's attitude _always _impacted the behavior of his little gang of troublemakers.

He wasn't going to miss them much ... well, except for Laserbeak. He'd always liked her.

Starscream snarled, "Soundwave, stand up and salute your master, or has your vacation amid the Autobots made you forget how a real military organization is run?"

Sotto voice, Jazz whispered, "... It's almost like he thinks the Decepticons are a proper army."

Besides Optimus, the assembled Autobots included Ratchet, Prowl, Bluestreak (armed with a hefty laser rifle), both of the Prime-bedamned Lamborghini twins, and Ironhide. The red twin snorted a laugh at Jazz's comment and Jazz grinned wickedly. The others looked varyingly amused. Starscream snarled.

"Soundwave let's go. if we stay any longer, Optimus's court jester might learn to be funny." Megatron imperiously waved Soundwave over.

At his gesture, Soundwave started to rise. Ratchet, who was next to him, reached out, caught Soundwave's elbow, and pulled him to his feet. Megatron, baffled, watched as the medic guided Soundwave over. His third-in-command was weaving on his feet like he was overenergized to the point of passing out, and he was not normally a mech who drank at all. He clung to Ratchet's shoulder, and Ratchet had a tight grip on his hip.

"Ratchet needs to give you some information," Optimus said, following cautiously.

"You _drugged _him!" Starscream shouted. "How dare you!"

"No," Hook said, softly, disagreeing. "Ratchet ... how bad?"

"Could be worse." Ratchet sighed.

"Chance of recovery?"

"Depends on him and you." Ratchet pressed his lips together, meeting the other medic's eyes, then flicking a quick glance in Megatron's direction. "Depends on if he gets the care he needs. Depends on how he's treated. Depends on a lot of things. Dumb luck. Depends on how much nanoscale damage there is that I couldn't detect."

"He's not fully repaired!" Starscream shouted, tone somewhere between anger and delight.

Megatron was not enough of an optimist to think that the glee in Starscream's voice had to do with the Autobots failing to carry through with their part of the deal. Starscream had little love for Soundwave, viewing him as the competition - and particularly dangerous competition, at that.

"Soundwave," Megatron said, with a sigh, "Let's go home. I'll have a _proper _medic repair you. These Autobots are incompetent idiots, all of them."

Hook asked hesitantly, "Sir, may I question the Autobot medic for a moment?"

Soundwave hadn't said a word. Frenzy was staring up at Megatron, however, optics huge and terrified. Frenzy normally wasn't openly frightened of him. Megatron couldn't figure out why the kid was so scared. Maybe losing the others had just glitched him out.

"What?" He demanded of Hook.

"I think ..." Hook was clearly nervous. "Ratchet, his neural circuitry was damaged, wasn't it? His posture is ... distinctive."

"I have data file with the details," Ratchet met Megatron's suddenly alarmed stare without fear or hesitation. "I have done my absolute best to repair him. Physically, he is in perfect condition. I spent twenty-six hours personally putting him back together, Megatron, and you are well aware of my skills. However, part of his sensory circuitry was damaged beyond repair, and the connections between his optical and auditory feeds and his language centers have been very badly damaged."

The medic calmly handed him a datafile. Megatron was struck by how absurdly _normal _it felt to simply take the file from Ratchet. It was, for one startling moment, as if Ratchet was just a doctor, not the pit-slagging Autobot medic, a deadly warrior in his own right and an politician he'd loathed from before the war.

He was _not _a scientist or a medic, however. He started to hand the datapad to Hook, but Starscream intercepted it. "Who's the expert on neural circuitry here? Yes, me, thank you."

"You were a researcher," Ratchet ground out, making _researcher _sound obscene. "Not a medic."

"Yes, well, we've all had to learn to make repairs - though I imagine _your _medics do more repairs than ours do," Starscream snapped. He frowned as he flicked through the data. "I'm certainly qualified to interpret scans ... Megatron, they _cheated _us."

Megatron growled, "How bad?"

"That thing," Starscream flipped a hand at Soundwave, "Isn't our favorite communications officer. That thing can't understand language, it can't walk, it can't talk. It doesn't have a comm at _all_. It can't even dump waste oil without help because those sensors are glitched. Slag, I'd want to be _dead _in that position."

"He can think," Ratchet said, quietly.

"He can't _understand _us." Starscream shoved the datapad at Hook. "Tell him, Hook."

The Constructicon medic scanned through the data swiftly. Then, grimly, and with real anger, he said, "If I had a patient in this condition, I would offline him. You cannot _fix _that kind of damage. It won't autorepair and he'll never be able to function."

"That is not true." Ratchet seemed angry at Hook's words. "I've personally seen mechs recover ..."

"That is my experience."

"I'd note," Ratchet snorted, "That I'm a lot older than you are."

Megatron ignored the exchange between the two medics. Starscream wouldn't lie to him about this sort of thing. He stared at Sound - at what had _been _Soundwave - and real pain bloomed in his spark. He did _like _Soundwave. However, the swaying ... thing ... before them hadn't said a word in his own defense. Soundwave wasn't exactly verbose under the best of situations, but he would have expected him to speak up long before now!

"Soundwave, talk to me," Megatron said, hearing a note of pleading in his voice. It hurt. He just wanted his communications officer back. He wanted that steady, unfailing, unflappable support. Soundwave was the _one _officer he'd always relied upon, always counted on, always trusted to _be _there, to pull through, and to never betray him.

"He ... he can't talk. But he'll get better!" Frenzy stammered.

"Feh. They only saved is life so they could trade him for Jazz." Starscream snorted. "Shoulda let him die. It's _cruel _to keep him alive like this."

"No!" Frenzy shouted. "No, he wants to live!"

Ratchet said, quietly, "Megatron, you should know that patients like this often recover markedly - there's some details in that file I gave him about my suggested course of therapy. It is entirely possible that he will regain a significant amount of function."

"Yeah, he might someday be able to do basic labor or aim a gun in the direction we tell him." Hook's lips curled into a sneer. "He won't be _Soundwave_. Starscream's right, Megatron. He's slagged. There's nothing of Soundwave left."

Soundwave uttered a soft, sharp, burst of static. It might have been words, but there was no meaning to be detected in them. He sounded scared, and Megatron had never known Soundwave to show _fear_.

Rage consumed him, suddenly. "How do I know," Megatron spun to face Optimus, "How do I know you didn't decide to _do _this to him? I brought you Jazz back _unharmed _and you give me a broken _thing _back that was my favorite officer. How _dare _you! I thought you had more honor than this! How could you be so cruel to _do _this to him?"

They'd done this. It had to have been deliberate. Soundwave, his communciations officer, was now unable to communicate. What a coup for the Autobots! He had _nobody _that could step into Soundwave's tracks and take over his job.

Optimus replied, "Soundwave's injury is a direct result of your actions, Megatron. You attacked us unprovoked. Do not blame us for this."

"My fault? _My _fault? This is his fault!" He raised his gun and aimed it at the medic, intending to hurt Optimus as much as Soundwave's fate hurt him. Ratchet had done this to Soundwave. Ratchet needed to die. Soundwave's visor glinted as he shoved Ratchet away from him, and that brief moment showed _intent _and _comprehension _and oh slag, what if Starscream was wrong?

"No!" Frenzy screamed, leaping, even as Ratchet ducked. Frenzy's small body latched onto Megatron's arm. "No! No, he didn't do anything, don't ..."

He flung the kid off. He could see Soundwave toppling to the ground out of the corner of his eye, unable event to stand without help.

The medic had _done _that to Soundwave. Soundwave was fritzing static now, scrabbling on the ground, repeatedly trying to get up and falling back. That brief moment where he'd seemed to be alert was gone. Surely, if he was flopping around like that, he had no _sentience _left.

Megatron knew he wouldn't want to live that way, and he _couldn't _be wrong, and he was just so _angry_. In actual good faith, because he didn't want to risk Soundwave's plating, he'd brought Jazz back unharmed. A third in command for a third in command ... it had been a fair trade. He'd bargained honestly for once.

The Autobots had tried to give him back a broken, sparkless _thing_ and they'd made him pretty, as if that would fool him. Soundwave wasn't _pretty_ - oh, Megatron had enjoyed looking at him, but it wasn't about _pretty _with Soundwave. He was efficient, loyal, competent, and the only officer that Megatron could truly rely on.

And now he was destroyed past all repair. It _hurt_.

"Damn you!" Frenzy screamed, again, even as Megatron brought his weapon up to end the miserable, pathetic _thing _that had once been his favorite officer. He'd kill the others later. That thing needed to die. He told himself he was doing it for Soundwave, who would have wanted to be terminated if he was ever this badly crippled.

He pulled the trigger but even as he did, Frenzy leaped at him a second time. The blast caught Frenzy square in the chest. The cassette flipped end over end into the dirt. The _thing _on the ground screamed in high, wordless rage, thrashed, then started dragging itself over the ground to the body.

Optimus's weapons snarled to life. Ratchet, a laser scalpel in hand, lunged at him. Jazz, somehow already armed, started firing. Bluestreak was bringing that laser cannon to bear.

"Retreaaaaaaaaaaat!" He screamed, seeing unmitigated fury in the optics of every Autobot.

Well, he had threatened their medic. Still, the outraged anger he heard from them, and the way they earnestly tried to slag him as he fled, seemed all out of proportion to the crime. He didn't quite understand why they were so upset.

Slaggit, he was going to _miss _Soundwave. The Autobots would certainly offline that ... _thing _... he'd seen crawling in the dirt. They would have no reason to keep it alive, would they? They had Jazz back.

Well, it didn't matter. Soundwave was gone. That was just his husk.

He'd put an extra special bounty on Jazz's head. They shouldn't have tried to trick him.

_:Slaggers shot up my landing gear!: _Starscream complained. _:Primus. If you'd just listened to me, Megatron, we'd still have Jazz.:_

_:You're the one who released him before we even landed, idiot!:_

_:He bounced good, too. Did you see that? I shoulda dropped him from higher up.:_

_:Shut up, Starscream.:_

_:Shoulda thrown him so he landed on Optimus. That would have been hilarious.:_

_:Starscream ...: _Megatron aimed his plasma cannon. _:Shut up.:_

Starscream didn't shut up until Megatron actually singed his plating. The seeker was in far too cheerful of a mood to heed Megatron's subtler warnings.

Hook said, _:Megatron, for what it's worth, I think you did the right thing in not taking him back. What's left of Soundwave would have no place in our army. I'm sure that the Autobots will give him a peaceful, painless end. He's earned that much. He was very loyal to you, and I believe he actually cared about you.:_

_:Shut up, Hook.:_

At least Hook listened better than Starscream did.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three - An Adjustment of Plans

Author's notes: I owe a lot of responses to a lot of reviews. I'll work on that in the next few days. Wow. I was not expecting a response like this to this story!

* * *

He didn't _understand_.

Soundwave keened and scrambled across the ground to Frenzy, ignoring the fight that had erupted around him with reckless disregard for his own safety. His only focus was his last surviving symbiont.

Megatron barked a single short word that _had _to be, "Retreat!" even though it came across only as garbled static. The Autobots were shooting at the fleeing Decepticons, and he could hear report of a very large weapon, but he paid it no mind. Frenzy's presence in his spark was barely registering, a flickering and fading ghost of a bond. He would be utterly alone, but worse, Frenzy would not have the future that Soundwave dreamed for him.

_No! You must live! _Soundwave howled aloud, but the words only registered in his mind. He was screaming static.

Megatron's weapon had done a tremendous amount of damage to Frenzy's small body, searing and melting his internals. Energon from a multitude of severed lines sprayed over superheated plating, igniting as it did. Black smoke poured from his cassette's chest and out his mouth. That last sign was one he associated with swift death.

Soundwave crawled to him and quickly established that Frenzy's powerplant was destroyed past all hope of a quick field repair. More than mere moments without energy would permanently damage Frenzy's systems, perhaps cause him to offline forever, if the fire didn't kill him first ...

Ratchet appeared, a fire extinguisher in one hand and a pulse cannon (likely the weapon Soundwave had heard) in the other. He doused the flames, but his revealed more of Frenzy's injuries. When Soundwave saw the extent of the damage, he felt his hope fail him. Frenzy's tiny body had been truly shattered.

Somewhat to Soundwave's shock, Ratchet wasn't giving up. He seemed to know exactly what to do. The medic subspaced his rifle and worked with rapid, almost frantic fingers to stabilize Frenzy. First, he yanked two power leads out of his own arm and clipped them to the terminals of Frenzy's power plant. Then he looked up at Soundwave, who was crouched on his hands and knees next to the body, and - much to Soundwave's shock - produced a handful of clamps. He thrust the clamps into Soundwave's grasp and pointed imperiously at a leaking energon line on Soundwave's side of Frenzy's body.

They were alone; the other Autobots were pursuing the Decepticons. Those leaks _had _to be stopped. Asking Soundwave to work on his own cassette when Soundwave was barely able to sit upright without toppling was probably not at the top of Ratchet's best-medical-practices list, but Soundwave was the only possible help Ratchet had. And he _did _have an engineer's knowledge.

Soundwave blinked, took the hint and sealed the first major leak with a couple quick twists of the clamps around the damaged lines. It felt insanely good to have a simple, practical task to perform that was actually _helping_. It focused him and let him set aside his panic for the moment.

_Live, _he thought, to the shattered cassette on the ground. _You must live. _Frenzy was blessedly unconscious; he did not think he could do this if he was simultaneously dealing with howling agony being transmitted across their bond.

Ratchet, meanwhile, was starting an energon drip. Soundwave observed that there were numerous smaller leaks, and he decided to keep clamping off broken lines. Ratchet glanced up a couple of times at Soundwave, face an open mask of concern, but didn't try to stop him. After starting the drip, Ratchet began to tear out the destroyed power plant right then and there - Soundwave knew they couldn't move Frenzy without replacing it, or at least hooking him up to portable life support. He would be too unstable.

Optimus's shadow fell over them, and then he knelt beside Soundwave and produced some bags of medical grade energon from his subspace. Soundwave reflexively tensed - he'd never seen Optimus as anything but an enemy before, and his battle systems were fully engaged. He forced himself to remain calm and to keep working on the leaks.

Somewhat to Soundwave's disbelief, Optimus started hooking Frenzy up. He looked competent, too. Most soldiers knew basic field medicine, but Soundwave couldn't picture _Megatron _jumping in to help like this. However, Optimus was slower and larger than most of his soldiers, and Soundwave suspected that he'd been left behind in the pursuit of the airborn Decepticons by ground bound Autobots - or he had simply elected to stay behind so as not to slow them down. He was the only other Autobot in sight now.

Ratchet didn't seem surprised by the help from his leader. He paused only a nanoclick to thrust a vial of sedative at Optimus and snap something that sounded suspiciously like an order - which Optimus promptly followed. Soundwave understood the rational for a sedative and recognized the color of the liquid if not the label. They did _not _want Frenzy to come around right now, as he'd be in agony, and if he panicked and thrashed about, he could make the damage worse.

Then First Aid zoomed up, tires spinning on the dirt. He transformed, and Soundwave's relief was immense when he saw that First Aid was carrying parts in Frenzy's size.

Optimus tugged on Soundwave's shoulder, urging him to move back and let First Aid in. He was reluctant, but he cooperated after a moment. Both medics had expressions of matching grim determination. Optimus helped Soundwave to his feet, and gently guided him away.

It was the first time he'd ever been this close to the Prime. Optimus's grip was nearly as sure, and as professional, as Ratchet's was. He lowered Soundwave back to the ground twenty feet away, then, much to his surprise, Optimus sat in the dirt next to him.

When he looked away from Frenzy, and over at Optimus, the leader of the Autobots had retracted his battle mask. His expression was angry, and for a moment, Soundwave feared the anger was directed at him somehow. However, when Optimus realized that Soundwave was looking at him, his expression softened. He gripped Soundwave on the shoulder briefly, as if he was trying to be comforting.

The ... leader of the Autobots ... his sworn enemy ... was comforting him.

He didn't understand, and it had nothing to do with his damage, how they could be so kind to him. What did they want from him? 

* * *

Once they were able to transport Frenzy back to the Arc, they worked on him for hours. Soundwave, however, was escorted back to the private med bay room. He was extremely reluctant to let Frenzy out of his sight, but a brief struggle with Optimus proved to him how pointless fighting was. He was, gently but firmly, put back in the locked private med bay room.

Somewhat to his surprise, an Autobot was assigned to sit with him - Prowl, who worked on a datapad in grim silence, and not looking at him. Later, Bluestreak relieved Prowl. Bluestreak chattered too-loudly for a few minutes, then fell into a distinctly more uncomfortable silence. The young soldier didn't seem to know what to do with himself. First he'd look at Soundwave, then pointedly avert his eyes. He fidgeted in place. A few times he asked short questions that Soundwave had no hope of answering.

Soundwave was too lost in his own thoughts to pay Bluestreak much attention.

After a bit, Bluestreak was replaced by Jazz, who turned on the monitor and tuned it to a station playing human music. Jazz, looking only a little worse for the wear, leaned back against the wall, offlined his optics, and seemed to be half asleep. Soundwave wasn't fooled. Jazz was one of the canniest, and the most dangerous, mechs he knew of.

When Prowl returned, he seemed indignant to find Jazz in the room. A brief argument ensued, then Jazz slunk off. Soundwave figured that Jazz was supposed to be off duty and resting. Why had Jazz come to watch him, then?

After a very long time, Ratchet opened the door. To Soundwave's immense and utter relief, the medic had Frenzy in his arms. The little cassette was still unconscious, but whole and apparently repaired. Soundwave, somewhat desperately, held his arms out, and Ratchet deposited the kid in them.

Soundwave held him close, arms tightening around Frenzy's tiny form. The Autobots had _no _reason to work so hard to save him. He didn't understand why they had done so, but he was grateful.

He wondered if Frenzy's repairs were complete. He wondered if Frenzy had any residual damage similar to his own ... That thought was so horrifying, and seemed so _possible_, that he tapped his own head, and then pointed at Frenzy, and looked at Ratchet, hoping Ratchet would understand.

Ratchet gave him a thumb's up and a big smile, then an 'OK' sign.

Apparently, Frenzy was going to be fine. Somewhat hesitantly, he gave him the 'OK' sign back, and wished he could say more. He owed the Autobots a debt that he did not know if he could ever repay, given his condition.

Prowl said something that sounded teasing to Ratchet

Ratchet turned, lifted a single finger up in Prowl's direction, gave Soundwave another smile, then stomped out. Prowl followed, snapping off the lights as he left. Much to his surprise, the SIC seemed to be smiling faintly. He'd never seen Prowl smile before.

Alone in the dark, Soundwave cradled Frenzy to his chest and ... had no idea what to do now.

He was useless. He had no idea why the Autobots had saved him. He was useless, alone, and _helpless_, among enemies who were behaving in ways he simply couldn't figure out. He held Frenzy the rest of the night, while wondering what his future held. 

* * *

The security camera in Soundwave's private med bay room showed that he was simply sitting on the berth with Frenzy in his arms. Frenzy had finally woken an hour before, but Soundwave had continued to hold him. Frenzy, who was normally wary and defensive, was sprawled across Soundwave's chest with his optics only half lit. When alone, both of them seemed to relax.

"Are they lovers?" Optimus asked Ratchet. Then his gaze swept over other assembled officers and medical staff, as if daring them make a crude comment.

Ratchet shook his head. "I've examined both of them from head to toe when I had them in my surgery, looking for damage. Frenzy has slave seals and they are still intact."

Optic ridges went up. Slave seals were placed on valued "merchandise" during production, for a variety of reasons. Somewhere, Optimus thought he'd seen mention that Soundwave's twins had been runaways, but he couldn't recall the specifics. At any rate, Optimus mentally winced, wondering what Frenzy would think if he knew that his virginity was being discussed by several Autobots. He said firmly, "Kindly consider that information medically sensitive and do _not _spread it." He was a bit irritated that Ratchet would be so blunt.

Ratchet was unapologetic. "I think that's a relevant bit of data that helps us determine how to deal with them. They have a very close relationship, and I do not want _anyone _thinking that Soundwave is somehow taking advantage of Frenzy. Aside from the fact that Frenzy is an adult, they're _not _lovers. Based on every single thing I have seen, the two of them have a very healthy, culturally normal relationship. I talked to Blaster about it a bit, and read up on them in my resources. It's a very hierarchical culture, to be sure - symbionts are always subservient to their masters, and masters have their own masters, and so forth, often with actual bonds forged between them, but the symbionts are not without rights. By the way those two relate to each other, I'd say there's a lot of love and no abuse between them."

Optimus nodded. He'd been dubious about having _Blaster _as an Autobot when the mech had first joined, because the relationship that Blaster had with his own cassettes seemed close to slavery. He'd done his own research, and had several long personal talks with both Blaster and the members of his his little gang before his conscience had been mostly satisfied. He said, "The symbionts chose their masters. It's entirely consensual, and either party _can _break the bonds if they chose - though few do. By the nature of their bonds, it's generally a very close relationship, with considerable mutual support."

Next to him, Prowl had been reviewing notes on a datapad. He looked up and said, "All this is well and good, but what are we going to _do _with them?"

Prowl was practical to a fault. Optimus said firmly, "As long as Soundwave is unable to care for himself, he may remain here."

"Do we have the resources?" Prowl asked, a brutal question but one that had to be weighed. "And I'm not just talking about fuel. They're going to need quarters, we'll have to assign them guards, they will consume the time and effort of the medics and - for what? What do _we _get, other than a security headache?"

"Prowl," Optimus said, after silencing Ratchet's indignant protest with a stern look, "Those are valid issues that you raise. I will answer your last question first, which is what we get from caring for them - I very firmly believe we have a ideals and beliefs upon which we _cannot _compromise. Soundwave's presence among us is a reminder of who _we _are. We will care for him as if he was one of our own, because that is what we do, what we believe in. The rest ... will sort itself out."

Red Alert said sharply, "I want security on both of them at all times."

"I agree," Optimus said, simply. "They will be supervised closely, either by camera or by a trusted Autobot. I do not intend to be foolish, Red Alert. However, I also do not think it is overly optimistic of me to hope that someday those measures will not be necessary ..." He held a hand up when several mechs started to protest. "But for now, we will simply consider the practical."

"A brig cell isn't the right place for Soundwave," Ratchet tapped his fingers on the table. "He will need constant stimulation, interaction, encouragement, and physical therapy to regain the maximum amount of function. I'm willing to take responsibility for him during my work shift - he can stay in the med bay as long as he cooperates and is at least civil. Being out where he can interact with others will be good for him. I'd like some time to myself at the end of my shift, so I would appreciate it if we scheduled a few other mechs to mind him in the evening. He can stay with me at night - given his condition, he could suffer unexpected complications and I'd just a soon be close anyway."

"Your room?" Optimus wasn't sure he liked that idea.

Ratchet glanced him. "You know, a long time ago, I healed people - and I didn't care about their political allegiances. I just cared that I could help them. He's reminded me of what that feels like. he is an _enemy _yet ... it feels good to help him. Optimus, he can't stay in the brig. We don't have any spare single quarters at the moment, and he can't stay in the med bay either. I _have _a suite. There's enough room for two - or three, Frenzy's so small he doesn't count."

Red Alert snapped, "Ridiculous! He could kill you while you sleep!"

"Oh, come off it," Ratchet rolled his optics. "Red, he can barely walk."

"What about the little one!"

"Frenzy? If you recall, he tried to attack Megatron to defend me. I hardly think he'll be a threat to my plating."

Optimus realized he was smiling at the exchange. "If you want to keep him in your quarters until he's improved, I have no issues with this."

"People will _talk_," Red Alert growled. "They could assume the worst."

"If anyone thinks I'm fragging a Decepticon patient who can't even talk, they _really _don't know me," Ratchet sounded peeved by the suggestion. Optimus didn't blame him. Ratchet's reputation was impeccable.

"I want a security camera in your room."

"No." Ratchet narrowed his eyes at Red Alert, "That will not be necessary."

Optimus sighed, "Red, you know I have never approved security cameras in private quarters. I'm not going to start now. - There is, however, also the question of what to do with Frenzy during the day."

"Put him to work," Ratchet suggested, with a bit of a grin. "The little imp will be a handful and a half if he's bored. Also, he's going to need a break from Soundwave occasionally too."

Optimus chuckled, hearing genuine fondness in Ratchet's voice. "Ideas?"

"I'd say pair him up with an Autobot for several hours a day for maintenance tasks. He's small and he can get places Wheeljack can't for work on the Ark."

Red Alert, predictably, pointed out, "That is a _huge _security risk. I'd like multiple eyes on him."

Prowl frowned. "Red, you can watch him on the security cams. I think Ratchet is on the right track - better that he be kept busy versus sitting in a brig cell thinking of ways to escape or make mischief. He's got considerable hacking experience himself, given his history with Soundwave, and I wouldn't want to lay odds on our ability to _hold _him if he didn't want to be contained. So, I will pair him up with the engineering crew for now, as Ratchet suggests. I don't think there's anyone in that department who will give him a hard time."

Optimus nodded. "That will work, and Skyfire has been asking for a smaller lab assistant ... we should make him available to Skyfire as needed, as well."

His officers settled down to figuring out the specifics, and Optimus leaned back in his chair and let them do their jobs.

Ratchet caught his gaze, as Prowl and Red Alert debated who they could trust to be nice to the kid without being overly trusting.

Ratchet looked quietly angry, though it didn't seem to be at any of the other staff. Optimus knew Ratchet well enough to see that his medic's mulishly stubborn streak was in full force. Ratchet hated Megatron just about as much as anyone did, and he also had a fierce need to prove his enemies wrong. That contrary streak meant that Ratchet was going to do his damndest to help Soundwave, and the fact that Soundwave was _also _an enemy was of far less significance to the medic.

Ratchet had a keen sense of justice and honor to match his stubbornness. Megatron's actions had offended him down to the core of his being, but by the same token, Soundwave's injuries were also the result of an Autobot weapon. Ratchet was an oathsworn healer, and Optimus knew that the war's casualties wore on his conscience, even when he wasn't the one pulling the trigger. Every single time they'd had an enemy in the med bay, Ratchet started out grumbling and irritated, and then had ended up going above and beyond to heal that enemy mech. It was, Optimus was certain, his way of compensating for his guilt over his part in the war.

And so Ratchet had resolved to help Soundwave.

_:I am very proud of you today, Ratchet.: _He knew Ratchet would get flack for his support of the Decepticon officer. He wanted Ratchet to know that _he _supported him. _:If you need any help, or a sounding board, you know my door is always open to you.:_

Ratchet brightened a little, then seemed to sag in place. _:Thanks, Boss. I just hope that Soundwave doesn't betray us, despite our good intentions.: _

_:If he does, you will still have done the right thing.:_

:Yeah, but if he betrays us, I'm the one who gets to fix the casualties.:

He had a rather good point. _:Just be careful, with him in your room.:_

:Yes sir. Though, for what it's worth, I intend to let him have the berth and I'll sleep in my sitting room.:

:There would be nothing wrong with making him sleep on fold-down berth that we bolted to the wall. You should not need to give your own berth up.:

:Nah, it's okay. He'll need considerably more recharge than is normal for the first few months, and I'd wake him up coming and going. Plus I'd like him to recharge with monitoring equipment watching his systems and that'll be easier to install in my bedroom.:

:Ah.:

:Plus,: Ratchet added, _:If I put a silent alarm on the door, I'll know if he or Frenzy gets up during the night.:_

Ratchet was nobody's fool, Optimus thought. _:Good. I know I don't have to tell you to be careful, but do let me know if you need anything.:_

:Mm. You bet, boss.:

* * *

For the life of him, Soundwave could not figure out why he was still functioning, or what the Autobots wanted.

Frenzy, trotting ahead of them, seemed slightly _puzzled_ but not alarmed. He was also getting threads of faint warmth from the kid directed at Ratchet, as if Frenzy genuinely liked him.

He hoped that Frenzy was reading the situation right, because he was baffled by what they had planned for him. Soundwave was fairly familiar with the Arc's layout, and he knew that he wasn't being taken to the brig. They seemed to be headed for the personnel quarters. Their progress was slow, as he still couldn't seem to keep his balance.

Ratchet, supporting him, was sturdy and uncomplaining. Soundwave had a multitude of files on the medic. Most spoke of his vicious temper, his fighting ability, and his obstinate nature. None mentioned the sheer _caring _that the mech seemed to exude.

Laserbeak had fairly accurately mapped the Arc over the years. He was suddenly struck with a pang of grief and loss for her; he _missed _her. She had been easy going and quiet, his calmest cassette, yet so very brave. She'd never refused a mission, no matter how dangerous, and sometimes he had wondered if she even knew what fear was.

Even Megatron had liked her - and she'd liked him right back, much to Soundwave's bemusement. If Megatron needed a spy or a messenger, he generally took Laserbeak. Soundwave had worried, of course, the entire time that she was gone, but Megatron had always brought her back safely.

He wasn't entirely sure he understood what had happened with Megatron, though he could guess. Starscream had probably represented his damage as being worse than it was, and Hook - no fool - had backed him up. Hook also didn't like to work on "hopeless" cases. He was a consummate perfectionist, and he saw flaws he couldn't fix as being far worse than they were. He would refuse patients simply because he judged he couldn't repair them to his standards, and he couldn't live with an imperfect fix marring his impeccable record. If the two of them had teamed up, it was entirely possible that Megatron had thought him beyond all help.

It still hurt, however, beyond all measure. He had _earned _his place at Megatron's side by being faithful, efficient, and uncomplaining. Megatron had simply thrown him away without even trying to verify that what they'd told him was true.

... And he'd nearly killed Frenzy.

For that, Soundwave wasn't sure he could forgive him. He had an explicit, _specific _agreement with Megatron that if anything happened to him, his cassettes were to be cared for and kept together until they decided on a new host. He honestly thought that if he died, Frenzy would follow him in short order, but if he was _crippled _the kid would obviously stick around - and Megatron should have honored the spirit of their long-ago agreement to see that the cassettes were cared for. Or cassette, singular, in this case.

Soundwave did not know what he would do if anything ever happened to Frenzy. The kid was his priority, now. Megatron had voided all loyalty he might have had by shooting Frenzy. He could think of _no _reason for Megatron to have responded with potentially deadly force against a grieving, terrified, unarmed youngling who was not a great deal larger than Megatron's fist.

And then for the Autobots to _fix _him ... without any real valid reason to do so ... he still thought they were soft-sparked fools, but he was grateful to said fools.

Ratchet's expression, as he had tenderly handed Frenzy over, stuck with Soundwave. The mech had cared, truly cared, about one small enemy soldier - and about Soundwave's feelings for the kid. He could have just as easily let Frenzy wake in a brig cell, cold and alone.

He expected Ratchet to dump him off in one of the small rooms reserved for grunts. However, Ratchet turned up the hallway that led to the officers' quarters.

What was this? Were these fools actually going to put him in quarters that matched his rank? He _was _an officer, albeit a Decepticon one. That couldn't possibly be right, if for no other reason than Laserbeak's last excursion into the Ark had confirmed they had no empty rooms anywhere on the ship, and quite a few mechs were double bunking.

Ratchet said something to Frenzy, who skipped ahead and punched a code into a door lock. Soundwave tried to ping Frenzy for the code (because everything was useful intelligence, and he and his symbionts shared things like passwords and door codes nearly automatically) and managed to make Frenzy jump when he hissed static over the bond.

Once through the doorway, it became quickly evident that these were Ratchet's personal quarters. A half disassembled optical array for a very large mech lay on his table, with tools neatly assembled beside it. Pictures of Ratchet and various human celebrities lined the walls - apparently, the medic wasn't above asking to pose for a photo with an amazing assortment of Hollywood stars and politicians. (Or maybe _they _asked to pose with _him_, and he asked for a photo!) A few empty energon cubes were scattered about - not enough to be a true mess, but definitely evidence of a busy mech who was too high in rank for anyone to inspect his quarters.

It was cozy, if a little cluttered. It would have driven Soundwave, who was obsessively neat and organized, insane in short order.

Soundwave took this all in as Ratchet paused to talk to Frenzy. Frenzy flopped on the couch, reached for a remote that was half-buried under a human newspaper, and snapped on the television. Soundwave would have protested the kid's ill manners, except he had an unpleasant suspicion that Ratchet had just said, _Make yourself at home._

That sudden feeling of extreme ill ease was born out when Ratchet steered him towards the bedroom at the back. Frenzy looked up at his sudden spike of fear, and said something questioning.

He clamped down on the bond, hard. It wouldn't do for Frenzy to feel his reactions to what he strongly suspected was about to happen. He couldn't entirely block the bond, but he was going to mute this as much as possible.

He considered fighting ... but Frenzy was reason to cooperate. He was, frankly, helpless and useless. The Autobots had zero reason to keep Soundwave around, and a lot of reasons to offline him or just _dump _him somewhere. However, it seemed their CMO had decided to find an use for him that involved the berth. Soundwave analyzed the situation repeatedly and this was the only reason he could find for Ratchet to take him to his quarters rather than putting him in a brig cell.

It made him want to scream like a sparkling, and he had to force himself not to panic and run in an undignified and pointless display of terror. With cold, hard reason he told himself that if this gave the Autobot a reason to keep him, and gave Frenzy a place to be safe ... as long as the medic didn't touch _Frenzy _he thought he could endure it. There could be far worse fates.

_Given to the humans_, he thought, _for experimentation. Or reformatted, spark transferred to a new body ... or put in stasis for the next few thousand years.  
_  
The Autobot lowered him to the berth, hands gentle and firm. The mech was clearly used to handling disabled, awkward patients, and his sturdy frame was reinforced for power.

This might not even be so bad, he told himself. Ratchet was kind - perhaps he'd be gentle now. Perhaps if he cooperated, Ratchet would never have a reason to look at Frenzy the same way he was obviously viewing Soundwave.

_I can do this, _he thought, bitterly.

He hadn't had a lover in a very long time, but he remembered, with sweet fondness, what it had been like. The shattering of that single bond long ago had defined his life, had made him who he was, and he missed her with every spark of his being. He remembered ... and then set those memories aside, not wishing them to be tainted by what he had to do now.

Ratchet wasn't bad to look at. He was clean - that white plating of his was spotless. He would certainly want to be the top, and Soundwave wasn't exactly a valve mech - he'd tried a few times as a youngling, experimenting, and had decided he preferred being the one doing the spiking, thank you very much, during interfacing. Still, he didn't think being underneath that solid bulk would be utterly awful. Ratchet might even try to make it good for him, rather than simply taking his pleasure as if Soundwave were a drone.

Not that he thought he could _possible _enjoy this.

The Autobot bent over to lift Soundwave's legs up onto the berth, and Soundwave offlined his optics, not particularly wanting to _see _Ratchet. He lay back, forcing himself to relax. Turning off his optics increased his vertigo, but that was preferable to watching ... he didn't want to _see _what the Autobot looked like as he took his pleasure.

Would he be expected to overload, he wondered? _Could _he, when he felt so little desire, and when the world was wheeling and spinning around him?

He didn't want _this_.

Ratchet's bulk settled onto the edge of the berth. Those sure, gentle fingers rested on his shoulder, then ran down his arm and squeezed. Ratchet was saying something that sounded soothing.

_Just get on with it, _he thought, trying not to shiver in disgust and dismay.

The Autobot was just sitting there. He'd removed his hand, and when Soundwave risked bringing his optics back online, the medic was staring off into space. His expression was distant.

He didn't want this. He. Didn't. Want. This.

He hadn't wanted _any _of this.

He just ... he just wanted his cassettes back. He wanted to go home to his own quarters. He wanted to wake up as Megatron's most trusted commander, sure of his place in the world. He wanted to be able to talk. He wanted to be able to tell Frenzy it was going to be okay. He wanted to be able to hold his own amid the cesspit of Decepticon politics, relying on his wits, the intelligence gathering ability of his cassettes, and his long history of relative trust with Megatron to keep his position of power and influence.

... With all but Frenzy dead, he realized, he would probably not be able to keep his position even if Megatron had taken him back. He had relied upon all of them, but particularly Laserbeak and Buzzsaw and Ravage, to keep his blackmail current and keep one step ahead of the rumor mill about his own activities. The other officers would turn upon him like sharks on a blood trail once they realized he no longer had his little gang of spies.

Rumble and Frenzy, while useful at infiltration, were better at hacking and at gathering intelligence via gossip. Their chatty nature was quite useful - people forgot they were Soundwave's and spoke to them and useful tidbits came back to him.

Megatron had always appreciated Soundwave's ability to keep tabs on Starscream and Shockwave. It had been a large part of what made him so valuable.

All that was gone now.

Ratchet's hand was gentle, soothing, on his arm. He hated it. Hated the mech, who faked such kindness.

He wanted to be able to _fight_.

He wanted to be able to defend himself.

To fight what was coming off.

He wanted his weapons.

He didn't want _this_.

His horror rose, with claustrophobic intensity. He wanted to scream, but he didn't want to hear the garbled static that would come from his vocalizer.

He wanted ...

There was that hand again, resting lightly on his shoulder, stroking. Ratchet's fingers were warm, gentle, full of confidence and power.

He didn't want to find that touch at _all _attractive. A tiny curl of warmth threaded through his systems, though, and he denied it with fierce rage at his own weakness.

He was Soundwave. He was proud. He was competent. He didn't _cry_. He wasn't attracted to the damned Autobot solely because the mech had so much power, so much authority, could _protect _him, particularly not when the Autobot was about to rape him. He didn't want it. He didn't want to _like _the mech who intended to violate him.

Unwanted, a sob escaped him, harsh and full of static.

The Autobot's hand stilled. He heard a soft burst of noise, and wondered what Ratchet had said. It didn't matter. He just wanted to get this _over _with. Get it done, get it past him ... prove to himself he could survive it. Why was the Autobot just sitting there?

Slaggit. He didn't _want _this. Some fierce sense of claustrophobia made him struggle upright. The world dipped and spun around him, but he was getting better at ignoring that dizzying sense of motion. His vents were puffing as his systems powered up to battle readiness in response to his terror. He wanted to run, but he knew he'd go crashing to the ground if he tried to even take a step.

The medic sighed, tucked one leg under himself so that they were closer to the same height, and wrapped his arm around Soundwave's shoulders. He was far stronger than his size would indicate. The room seemed to be spinning wildly. He could barely concentrate on the mech's presence next to him, much less fight back effectively.

The sobs came harder, though he tried to muffle them. He didn't want Frenzy to hear, though he knew he was incapable of blocking all his emotions when they were this powerful. He was very glad that the door was closed, at least, so the kid wouldn't hear him cry. Soundwave did not _cry_. Soundwave hadn't cried in thousands of years and now it was as if he was not even in control of his own emotions.

Everything - all control, all he had ever owned save one small symbiont - had been taken from him. Even his own _mind _was damaged.

He _didn't _want to take comfort from this Autobot, who was certainly going to _rape _him, and he'd never needed a hug from _anyone _since he was a sparkling. He was tough. He was a warrior. He was not some sniveling child, to need protection and comfort like one of his young symbionts ...

But he couldn't stop the faint cries that escaped his vocalizer.

And the Autobot just held him. The hug felt like the real thing, not some ploy to make him cooperate. Was it possible that the mech cared?

_Why _would he care?

That little thread of attraction, of faint desire, was _just _a fraction stronger, and he damned himself for it. He did _not _want this.

It made no sense. They were enemies. Surely, the Autobot was just being nice because he wanted a frag that didn't involve a fight first. He probably wanted to pretend that this was consensual, that this was okay, that Soundwave wanted it too.

He did not want it. He did not want to be held in those arms and comforted, made to feel something besides fear and frustration and grief. He did _not _feel a tiny amount of interest in the mech. He didn't _want _to, perhaps, lay back and let the Autobot make love to him and pretend, for a bit, he had a protector of his own, a lover, someone who would be his friend, his equal, his champion.

He ... didn't want that. The Autobot was _not _that person. He was going to violate Soundwave, and Soundwave was ashamed to feel any interest at all.

The Autobot's hands were so gentle. The Autobot was making soft crooning noises now, like the sounds one would make to a new sparkling. It was embarrassing, because he couldn't stop sobbing. In fact, the more that the damned Autobot held him, the harder he seemed to cry.

He kept waiting for those hands to move to more intimate areas, but they didn't. They remained chastely on Soundwave's back. The Autobot - the damned soft-sparked slagging Autobot - was just holding him and giving him a literal shoulder to cry on and he just didn't get it. He didn't understand.

The Autobot just held him. Those hands didn't grope him, didn't slid into the seams of his armor. Ratchet's touch was not inappropriate. It was comforting. Soothing. He was reminded of the way he held his own symbionts.

Slowly, a thread of hope flared ... the mech _wasn't _trying to force him. He was just sitting there, crooning softly, a solid, sturdy presence.

Could Soundwave, perhaps, trust him?

That thought made him sob even harder, much to his embarrassment.

He was a warrior. He was proud. He never showed weakness nor emotion to anyone but his symbionts. He was independent and strong. This was shameful.

But he grabbed onto the damn Autobot medic and clung fiercely to him as the world spun wildly around them. He didn't want to like the mech. He insisted to himself that he didn't, couldn't, trust him. But he held on for all he was worth, for reasons he couldn't even define.

The Autobot's hands were gentle, and they soothed him like he was a child, and slowly he relaxed. He was not going to be harmed. He was not going to be forced. He was just being held, tightly, by the mech who'd saved Frenzy, who'd saved his own life, who had treated him all along with such careful courtesy and care.

Soundwave couldn't figure out why the realization that the mech wasn't going to hurt him made his grief and anger and fear worse. He didn't understand. But he also didn't let go until many hours later.

The medic then urged him to lie down, squeezed his arm, and with that last gesture, he quietly left the room. Soundwave didn't think he'd be able to recharge, but to his surprise oblivion claimed him for the night in mere moments.

He was safe with the medic - he and Frenzy both. Somehow, he could believe that. No matter what else happened, the medic was _safe_.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four - An Adjustment of Plans 

* * *

Ratchet woke early the next morning when Optimus pinged him. He took a second to boot all his systems.

He'd learned long ago not to embarrass himself by answering Optimus half-awake because he tended to vocalize his thoughts before his internal censor kicked in. That was a lesson learned the hard way. Optimus, while patient to a fault, did not appreciate being told to 'frag off, it's too early to deal with that' when calling him to tell him somebody had chewing gum stuck in his air intake.

Sideswipe never had explained how the chewing gum incident had happened, but Ratchet had his suspects. Some of them were human.

Only after he was fully conscious did he respond, _:I'm here. What's up, boss?:_

:Good morning, Ratchet.: In sharp contrast with Ratchet, Optimus was a cheerful morning person. Ratchet, who had consumed a bit too much high grade before bed, winced and bit back irritation at that pleasant and wide-awake greeting. Optimus, who was probably not oblivious to Ratchet's misery, said in a far too pleasant tone, _:How are your patients?:_

:Soundwave was quite distraught last night. I wish I could explain matters. I'm not sure how much he's actually understanding. He's certainly wondering what our intentions are. I've tried to reassure him as best I can, but we are his enemies, boss. He must fear the worst and be completely confused by our actions. Frenzy, for his part, is doing as well as can be expected. He tells me he can't communicate with his master beyond an emotional level either, however.:

:Mm. I have faith in your ability to figure something out. Do not overtax yourself, however. Prowl has assigned Skyfire to sit with him this evening.:

:Excellent. And I intend to enjoy my time off.: Skyfire had a fair amount of medical knowledge. If Soundwave suddenly crashed, he could at hopefully keep him alive until Ratchet arrived. Ratchet was still worried that Soundwave's operating system could destablize due to hardware errors corrupting his operating system, or a key neural circuit could short out. Skyfire was also big, strong, and nearly emotionally unflappable, and he'd known Soundwave before the war.

_:He volunteered. He was worried about you stretching yourself too thin.:_

:I'll thank him for that. Optimus, _I've got some appointments for procedures and a surgery - Eject's arm's done - that I can't skip that this morning. However, I've got Smokescreen on my schedule in the afternoon to work with Soundwave. I want to see if we can map what functions he retains.:_

:Good. Will you send Frenzy to see me?: Optimus's tone turned serious.  
_  
:Boss?:_

:I'd like to have a chat with him before I assign him to a work crew.:

:Gonna threaten him into submission?:

:I prefer to lead by example rather than intimidation, Ratchet,: Optimus replied, but he sounded amused. _:I wish to ensure that he understands his position here. Then, assuming he agrees with our plans, I will assign him to a work crew with Wheeljack and Steeljaw.:_

:Good choice on mechs.:

:Mm. Blaster thinks that Steeljaw would be a good choice. I believe that Frenzy may appreciate working with mechs familiar with his culture and who understand what he has lost.:

:Steeljaw's an excellent choice.: The young Autobot cassette had a sly sense of fun, yet was impeccably professional in his behavior. His psych profile also mentioned a few things that made Ratchet suspect he would understand Frenzy's pain better than most. _:It wouldn't hurt to introduce Frenzy to Blaster, as well. Boss, I am thinking fallback plan when I say that.:_  
_  
:You are that worried about Soundwave?:_

:Optimus, I have no idea how things will turn out in the end for him.: Ratchet had seen too many mechs in Soundwave's position conclude they had nothing to live for and simply give up. He couldn't exactly say he blamed them ... which reminded him. _:Boss, you know, for their sake, we need to conduct services for the cassettes. Beyond the usual that you and I do, anyway. I'm about done gleaning useful parts from the bodies, so we can do it whenever you're free.:_

There were a small number of Autobots who made a point to hold a service for those Decepticons killed by Autobots in combat. Optimus was the natural leader of those services; as the Matrix bearer, he was the closest thing to a religious leader that Cybertron had. However, only a handful usually attended - Ratchet, Skyfire and (surprising only those who didn't know him) Prowl were the regulars. Jazz came sometimes, and Ratchet had never figured out if it was because he really believed in saying a few prayers for dead enemies or if he attended because Prowl did.

The latter impulse likely wasn't intended to impress Prowl, but rather came from guilt. Ratchet had observed long ago that Prowl brought the best out in Jazz ... and vice versa.

Optimus sighed. _:I will mention that as option to Frenzy.:_

:I could talk to him about it, if you want ...:

:No.: Optimus sounded merely sad. _:I am Prime. I will discuss what his wishes are.:_

:Thank you, Boss.: He was somewhat glad he didn't have to bring it up. He expected Frenzy wouldn't react very well when Optimus mentioned it. 

* * *

Frenzy had never actually spoken to Optimus.

He and Rumble had yelled profane insults at the Prime from across battlefields. The thrill of being crude and obnoxious to the bearer of the Matrix had never faded, particularly when their better insults were repeated and laughed about by the 'cons later. However, he had never actually _talked _to him, and he had never expected to.

The mech was huge. Taller than Megatron. Brighter colored than Starscream. Larger than life. And he was smiling.

Frenzy stood before a desk that was twice his height, stared way up at that imposing figure, and wondered if Optimus remembered the time he'd shouted (over Autobot comm frequencies) that Optimus Prime didn't have a spark, he had burning organic poo in his spark chamber. Or the time he'd hacked into the PA system of a sports stadium to demand (at full volume) if Optimus's bright paint scheme could be explained by paint rubs from 'facing with half the mechs in the Autobot army.

The Decepticons had found it vastly amusing. Megatron had encouraged them in such insults, and had even dispatched them to hack that PA system, as a form of distraction to the Autobots - the idea was to make them irrationally mad. As Frenzy recalled, it had backfired. The Autobots had been pissed off, but not irrational. They'd remained disciplined but had done a bit more damage than usual.

Now, he stood before the target of those insults. He knew that Optimus could make decisions that were life or death for him - and for Soundwave. Frenzy was feeling just a little protective of his master at the moment.

"Hello, Frenzy," the leader of the Autobots said, in a warm, friendly voice. "Why don't you come up here on my desk? It is easier to talk to you if I can look you in the optics."

He blinked in surprise. That had not been among the top ten things that he had expected Optimus to say.

_Ravage would hop up on that desk and sprawl out, make himself at home, just because he could, _Frenzy thought. Ravage, of all of his siblings, would have enjoyed living among the Autobots the most. He would have screwed with their heads every opportunity he got, with darkly malicious glee.

With that thought, and with a fierce pang of emptiness, he scrambled up onto the chair in front of the desk and then onto the desk itself. He was roughly as tall as Optimus's monitor, and his closer proximity to the mech was downright frightening.

"Ratchet tells me you've been well behaved. I want to thank you for that." Optimus ran an hand over his face. Without his mask he looked younger than his many years, at least until you looked into his optics. There was something about his gaze that was very ancient and spark-deep tired. "It cannot be easy for you. I am sorry about your brothers and sister."

"Sorry?" He couldn't help the bitterness from his voice. "You're probably glad they're gone. Five less spies. The 'cons are gonna fall apart with Soundwave gone, too. You guys got the war won, now."

Optimus frowned. "For you and Soundwave, the peace that we will then build will come at a very high price. I am sorry, Frenzy."

"Me too." He realized he was hugging himself and forced himself to stand upright. His anger evaporated as quickly as it had come, replaced again with worry. "S... Sir. What are you going to do with us? Ratchet says we can stay, but he's just a medic ..."

The leader of the Autobots interrupted him with a low chuckle. "Do not let Ratchet hear you call him 'just a medic' as he has a much higher opinion of himself than that."

Frenzy gaped, astonished that Optimus Prime would _joke _like that. The mech's tone was wryly amused.

Optimus continued, "In all seriousness, Ratchet is my chief medical officer. He's also one of my closest friends. I've known him for a very long time, and I trust his judgment deeply. He was one of my personal advisers before the war, a leader in his own right, and he has earned my deep respect. He is far more than a mere medic. As far as his statement about allowing you to stay - He and I have agreed we need to extend a hand of aid to both of you. In this, we are in perfect agreement."

"Why?" He still didn't understand. He couldn't meet Optimus's eyes. He wondered if it was a trick, what Optimus was trying to accomplish, and he worried that the help that the Autobots were offering would be abruptly withdrawn. Suddenly feeling a bit defiant he jerked his chin up and met the Autobot's blue optics with a glare. "How do I know you aren't doing this just to get intelligence, and you'll dump us after we blab?"

Optimus sighed. "Frenzy, there's probably not a lot you could tell us that we don't already know. I am certain that Megatron has already changed all of your access codes, likely assumes that we have hacked both of you, and is rapidly taking steps to counter any information we have gained from you."

"Why haven't you hacked me?"

Optimus looked pained at that question. "I will not lie to you, Frenzy. As you are well aware, I _have _ordered my medical staff to extract necessary information from Decepticons when the good outweighs the evil of that action. I do not believe we could obtain anything from you that would outweigh the harm it would cause you. I do not give the order to hack a mech lightly, and it is one I always personally sign off on."

So Optimus _could _decide he needed to be hacked ... the idea made him terrified. Would Ratchet, who he sorta liked, be the one to do it, or someone else? He wasn't sure which would be worse - Ratchet's kindness turned cold and hard and grim as he broke through Frenzy's firewalls, or one of the other Autobots violating his mind in such a fashion. He prodded, "But I might know something, y'know. What if you decide I'm hiding something you _do _need to know?"

As far as he knew, he didn't have anything critically important in his processor. Soundwave probably had lots of intelligence and analysis that the Autobots would find useful, but he had a feeling that hacking Soundwave would be completely pointless. If he couldn't talk to Soundwave over their quantum bond, then he doubted an Autobot interrogator would be able to get any coherent data. Soundwave was truly hack-proof at the moment.

Optimus sighed. "I ... hope it does not come to that. I take personal responsibility for such decisions, and make them with the good of all in mind. Sometimes, that means my decisions ... hurt people."

He had the sudden, uneasy feeling that he'd brought Optimus more pain than any battlefield insult he'd ever made. His questions, apparently, struck deep and had wounded. He had not really intended that, and he took an uncertain step back, fearing that the real pain in Optimus's eyes might transmute into anger.

Optimus sighed again. "For now, let us talk about the immediate future. Frenzy, I assume that you will want to hold some sort of memorial for your siblings, and some of us would like to attend ..."

"No." He snapped his optics off. His fists balled. He couldn't think of that. He didn't want to make it _official. _"No. I'll ... I'll do it in private. With Soundwave. That's it. No slagging funerals. Not with _Autobots _attending." He didn't want to deal with their false sympathy and forced condolences.

"I see." Optimus, when he risked turning his optics back on, looked a bit at a loss. He finally asked, "Do you mind if a few of us say a few prayers to Primus for them, however?"

"Fine, whatever." He didn't care what they did, so long as he didn't have to face it.

"Very well. If you change your mind, please let me know."

"Hnnh. You didn't call me here to talk about funerals, though. You called me here to scare me into behaving. And I want you to know I will behave!" he said, _meaning _it. "I mean, I get it. If I make trouble you guys might change your minds. I don't want that. My master needs ..."

Optimus reached out, suddenly, and he flinched, but the hand that rested on his arm and shoulder was very gentle. "Frenzy. Stop."

"Stop ... what?"

"Please do not be so worried. I asked you to see me not because I wished to scare you, but because I wished to discuss your position here - and I _did _want to ask you how you intended to honor your family. However, as far as your place here goes, Frenzy, we can make good use of your maintenance and repair skills. We are well aware that, as Soundwave's symbiont, you have considerable knowledge of engineering. He used you and your brother to make repairs on Decepticon communications installations for a long time, didn't he?"

"Yes sir." He suddenly missed Rumble so very badly. Optimus's words were an unintended reminder of what he had lost. Soundwave had used the birds and Ravage as spies, but he and Rumble had been better suited to maintaining Soundwave's vast network of equipment. Soundwave had often sent them off by themselves, trusting them, and relying on them, to do the work correctly. For days, weeks, sometimes even years, he and Rumble had been each other's world.

He missed his brother so badly. He wished that Rumble were here to back him up. He didn't know how he was going to deal with everything else without his brother's support. He desperately, desperately, wished that he had Rumble's help. And love. And just plain company. That part of his spark that had always been tied to his brother was cold, dark, echoingly empty. Far too often he forgot, however, and sent a quick thought to his brother that disappeared into the void unanswered. Sometimes he simply pinged Rumble out of habit to check his location and status, because he'd forgotten Rumble wasn't there anymore. When those pings were returned with errors, it _hurt_.

"Frenzy?" Optimus said, questioningly. "Do you ... need a minute?"

He realized some of his grief must have reached his expression. He shook his head hastily. "I'm fine. You're gonna make me work for my keep, eh?"

"Everybody works for their keep on this ship." Optimus's words were measured. "Your work load will be far lighter than most, as you will never be expected to fight against the Decepticons and you are not a sworn soldier of this army. That means you will never be assigned to patrols or to guard or monitor duty."

"It's okay. I suppose you'll have me cleaning and fixing stuff, eh?"

"Most of the time, that will be correct. The engineering staff may also ask you to work with them, if that will not bother you."

"Bother me?" He didn't understand that.

"Our engineering staff is, of course, working on projects - weapons, Frenzy - that will be used against Decepticons. You may find yourself asked to assist with the design of ..."

"_Good_." He interrupted Optimus. "Slaggers tried to kill Soundwave n' me."

"Frenzy, _Megatron _tried to kill Soundwave. Based on what I saw, Starscream and Hook also bear some guilt as their words certainly encouraged him. However, you cannot lay blame on the entire Decepticon faction."

He simply stared. The big red oaf was telling him _not _to be mad at the 'cons? After what they did? However, he did have a point. He couldn't really blame the others for Megatron's actions. However, Optimus probably didn't have the big picture.

"Look, I know Autobots are all lovey-dovey with each other. Me, I'm not attached to even one of those idiots. Most of 'em are a waste of fuel."

"Frenzy," Optimus said, very patiently, "you will learn that I believe no one is beyond redemption, and all have a right to life and to freedom, so long as they do not infringe on the lives and freedoms of others. Therefore, I do not approve of such terms as 'waste of fuel' - all have a right to life, to _fuel_. Including yourself."

"I bet you gave the go-ahead to make that weapon that killed my brothers and sister," he said, sudden resentment rising.

"I did." Optimus flinched, looking positively stricken. He hesitated, then said, "Frenzy, I ... ordered Sideswipe to target Soundwave. It was my decision."

His thoughts stalled to a halt and then restarting with an angry whirl of horrified emotions. "You ... you _wanted _him crippled?"

"I wanted him dead." Optimus met Frenzy's angry gaze, this time without anything but calm certainty. "For him to survive was not my intent."

"You just said all have a right to life!" He couldn't keep the angry wail out of his voice. "They're dead! All of them, _dead_! And Soundwave ... Soundwave won't ever be ..." He couldn't say it. He wanted to hear Soundwave's warm voice in his mind and heart, speaking words of reassurance, support, guidance, and affection. Instead, what he could sense of Soundwave was scared, angry, and desperate. Soundwave had never felt that way before in the entire time Frenzy had known him. He'd always been a rock of confidence and strength. He didn't want to say that Soundwave would never be the same again, might never _talk _to him again.

"I am sorry." Optimus sighed softly, not showing a single flare of anger in return. "You are justified in feeling anger towards me. I wanted to bring this out into the open now, so that you would not feel betrayed later, should you learn the truth. Please understand that this decision - that he would target Soundwave - was known only between myself, Prowl, and Sideswipe. It was ... calculated to be the best way to end this war with the least amount of loss of life."

"I don't understand. He's the third in command. He's not Megatron. He's not Starscream. Why kill my master?" It made no sense. Soundwave was a skilled communications engineer, yes, but his skills were replaceable.

Optimus ran a hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. "Frenzy, in addition to being critical for Decepticon intelligence and communications efforts, our intelligence suggests that Soundwave was the keystone holding the Decepticon command together. Without him Megatron's temper will be unchecked and Starscream's scheming will be far more effective. Our expectation is that the Decepticons will ..."

"Implode, yeah, yeah." He could see this, now that it was pointed out. He'd actually wondered just how bad things were getting back on the Nemesis without Soundwave around. He couldn't look at Optimus, though. Instead, he turned, putting his back to the mech. He plopped down on the desk, wrapped his arms around his legs, and rested his head against his knees. "So this is about guilt, eh?"

Guilt ... oh, Primus. The reason that Soundwave was so good at gathering intelligence had a heck of a lot to do with Frenzy and his siblings. That skill had brought him to Megatron's attention in the first place. If Frenzy had not done such a good job, would Soundwave be whole and the others alive?

He was stunned when Optimus rested a hand lightly on his back. He started to shrink away, and forced himself to remain still. Optimus said, "Frenzy, I am sorry."

"If he was okay, if he wasn't hurt so bad, would you have traded him for Jazz?" He wondered how cold-sparked Optimus would be. "Or ... or maybe you _did _hurt him, like Megatron claimed. Maybe you figured Megatron'd take him back anyway, and you'd get Jazz back, but screwing up his mind would still accomplish your goals, and, and ..."

"No, I would not have traded him for Jazz." Optimus's thumb rubbed the back of his neck. "We would have found another way to retrieve Jazz. I would never intentionally cause the kind of harm your master has suffered. Frenzy, I am so sorry. I truly am. You will have a home here for as long as you need it, provided you do not force me into another harsh decision. The safety of my troops comes first, but ... you can stay, and feel confident that we will never cast you out without cause. It was my decision, ultimately, to target Soundwave, and so yes, I feel personally responsible for your welfare."

"As a slave."

"As a ... what?" The hand on his back stilled.

"Isn't that what you're talking about? Put me to work without any choice on _my _end? No pay, no _real _promises, I can't leave ..." he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. "Tell me you'd let me leave."

"No. You may not leave." Optimus said, then shook his head. "Not on Earth. We could return you both to Cybertron, some day in the future, should you wish that. I would not allow either of you to leave our ... custody ... on Earth. Not at this time."

"So I'm a slave. I've been a slave. That's how I ended up with Soundwave, actually. I was owned by his lover's family. She died. The estate was gonna split me'n my brother up and sell us. We ran away. He found us, and then spent every last credit he had saved up, and went into debt, to buy us. And then he offered us ... well. The rest is history. So I've been a slave. Soundwave promised I would never have to be one again. He mod'd us so we'd always be together and safe. He's the best master you could ever imagine. And I'm _not _a slave. It's different! I'm with him of my own free will and he'd let me go if I really wanted it, and now ... now I've got _you _putting me right back where I wanted, and ..." he ground to a halt. If he kept going he was going to scream at the mech with as much of a display of histrionics as Starscream at his worst.

"I see." Optimus sounded simply tired. "You make some very valid points. We can ... afford to keep you fueled, and your basic maintenance done. I will not require labor of you. I ... did not think how you would perceive matters, and I was wrong to suggest it. You will simply be a prisoner."

He frowned. "In the brig?"

"If you give me your word, you may remain in Ratchet's quarters. You may not leave."

"Ever?"

"You will be our prisoner. I cannot take the risk that you may do something to cause harm to my mechs."

He didn't like the sound of that. Ratchet had a television, but little else in the room. It would be boring, to say the least.

"Maybe ... maybe I could do some work. In exchange for Soundwave's care. He's gonna need a lot, isn't he?"

Optimus sighed. "There is no charge for what we do for your master. I ... believe we can come to another arrangement. We do have a steady stream of earth funds, from a variety of sources - some government funding, a few business contracts. I can pay you a wage for your work, plus ... see that my engineering staff furthers your education. Someday the war will be over, and you may need to think of a career, and earning a living. We can give you more skills than you already have."

"Soundwave used to maintain communications satellites." He had no idea what he'd do with Earth funds, but he supposed he'd figure something out. "He won't be doing that any more, even if the war ends."

"Perhaps not."

It scared him to think that someday he might have to support _Soundwave_. He was just one small cassette, and Soundwave was his master. There was something really wrong with that picture.

"I should hate you." He let his resentment distract him from worries about the future.

"I would not blame you if you did." Again, there was that worn weariness. "My Autobots all receive a wage as well. We fight for what we believe is right, but soldiers should still be paid."

"Megatron pays in Cybertronian credits," Frenzy snorted. "Do you know what they're worth right now? They're not worth the electrons used to transmit the data." He huffed a sigh. "Fine. I clean, I fix, I polish, I do whatever else you guys need. I get one regular shift a day. You give me overtime pay if it goes beyond eight hours of work, and I get the option to say no to overtime. At least two hours a day of that shift is spent with the engineering staff, and I've got a preference for Perceptor's work or Skyfire's over Wheeljack's. Engineering, I've been doing since I was a youngling, and _my _stuff doesn't blow up."

Much to his surprise, Optimus smiled. It was a relieved smile, he thought, and the mech said lightly, "To be fair, many of Wheeljack's explosions are due to the fact that he _is _designing weapons."

"Yeah? He made the air handler on the third level blow up two years ago."

"How did you know about ...?" Optimus sounded a bit nonplussed by Fenzy's snarky observation.. "I do not want to know how often you five slipped into the Arc."

He smirked. "The birds were best at it. Wheeljack didn't tell you he was helping the Sideswipe and Sunstreaker set up a still for high grade. And no, you don't want to know how often."

He also had no intention of ever enlightening the Autobots of all of the ways they'd discovered into the Arc. Those entrances were also exits. If he ever needed to bail, he could. However, Soundwave couldn't use most of them even if he was mobile, so it didn't seem likely Frenzy would be running away any time soon.

Optimus smiled faintly. "I was aware of the still."

"Oh."

"I've found that banning all forms of intoxication tends to result in binges when they become available." Optimus shook his head, as if in disapproval. "I believe Jazz has an unspoken agreement with the twins that they limit the distribution to reasonable quantities, do not sell to certain mechs, and don't throw parties without inviting him. I am, of course, formally unaware of this agreement, and unofficially, Jazz is under orders to attend those parties and make sure it never gets out of hand."

Frenzy snorted. "Megatron just kicks everyon's afts when they get drunk."

"Does that work?" Optimus asked, lifting one optic ridge.

"Slag no." He was beginning to think that he'd fallen down a rabbit hole - an analogy that made him remember Laserbeak with a flinch. She'd been the silly one of the group, and had been quite fond of certain human literature. The Autobots did things so _differently_, he wished desperately that he could share that thought with them.

Rumble would have loved the comparison. And called him Alice.

He was so damn slagging alone. Never in his life, since his first moments online, had he been so alone in his head. He'd always had Rumble, and then Soundwave and the others had come along when he was very young. He couldn't even talk to Soundwave now.

"Frenzy, are we in agreement?"

"Yeah, yeah." He sighed. "What kind of a wage are we talking about?"

The figure that Optimus named in American dollars was decent, particularly since he had room and board in the deal. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd do with the money -buy car wax and comic books on eBay? - but being paid somehow made it feel more voluntary.

At that moment, someone pinged them from outside the door. Optimus sent a quick transmission to open it, and he did a major double take when, for one brief moment, he thought Ravage was standing there.

Steeljaw.

Steeljaw looked nothing like Ravage, but he was feline in shape, and roughly the right size. For one short moment, Frenzy's processor had insisted it was Ravage so strongly that he'd sent a wordless, purely emotional greeting into the aching nothingness in his spark that had once held Ravage's dry wit and dark humor.

The autobot symbiont was taller than Ravage, broader than Ravage, and of a completely different temperament. On second glance, there was very little resemblance.

"Prime, sir, you wished to speak to me?" Steeljaw said, in a warm tenor.

"Yes, thank you. Come in, Steeljaw." Optimus's greeting was friendly.

Ravage had never spoken aloud to anyone. He had plenty to say spark to spark, much of it sourly snarky, but he saw no need to speak to anyone outside their group. He just plain didn't care for anyone who wasn't bonded to him. It was his nature, both programming and inclination, and Frenzy had never questioned his choice to be mute.

To hear another feline cassette _talk _was a bit of a surprise. He'd known Steeljaw spoke, but he'd never actually heard him before.

Steeljaw was clearly used to Optimus's preference to speak to short mechs on their level. He smoothly leaped up onto the desk, sat on his haunches, and said, "What can I help you with, boss?"

"Steeljaw, Frenzy will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. He'll be helping engineering with Arc maintenance. I'd like you to assist him."

"Of course." Steeljaw glanced over at Frenzy and looked him over, curiously. "You're staying with Ratchet, I take it?"

Optimus nodded. "So that has already made the rumor network?"

"Kid smells like Ratchet's quarters." Steeljaw smiled again, baring some very formidable teeth. "It seems logical. It's not the first time Ratchet's taken a patient home to stay with him until the patient's repaired, if the patient needs close monitoring - and I know it would be practically impossible to separate me from Blaster if he was hurt, so I figured the kid was staying with him."

"I'm not a child," Frenzy snapped, suddenly resentful of the term 'kid.'

Steeljaw's grin grew wider. Tone tinted with sarcasm he said,. "My apologies. The _Decepticon _smells like Ratchet's quarters, boss."

Optimus pinched his nasal ridge for a moment. "Steeljaw, be nice. Frenzy's staying here, effectively as a neutral. I expect you to treat him with the respect and courtesy I know you to be well capable of."

"... Yes sir." Chastened, Steeljaw ducked his head. "That was unprofessional. I am sorry, Prime."

"We'll all need to watch our insults," Optimus smiled. A knowing glint touched his optics. "_Right_, Frenzy?"

Steeljaw snorted something that sounded like an attempt to muffle a laugh.

_Burning organic poo for a spark. Right. _He stammered, "Y-yes sir."

"Wheeljack will have some assignments for the two of you. You're both dismissed."

"Thank you, Prime." Steeljaw jumped off the desk with agility and grace that Frenzy could only envy. Frenzy heard the confidence and assurance in that voice, and wondered at it. Steeljaw wasn't afraid of Optimus. He was sure of his place in the world, and not worried about repercussions for his mis-chosen words. And yet, there was respect in his words for the leader.

Frenzy clattered down after the other cassette, then turned back to Prime and said, softly, "Thank you, sir."

That got him a nod of acknowledgment. Optimus said, ruefully, "And thank you, Frenzy, for sharing your perspective. If you need anything, my door is always open to everyone who lives here."

He was honestly not sure what to make of that. Finally he just nodded and more-or-less fled out of the room. He felt so out of sorts, confused, and just plain uneasy.

Only when he'd gone halfway to engineering did he remember Steeljaw. Like Ravage, Steeljaw moved with silent grace. The other symbiont was walking quietly beside him, stride steady and calm.

"So you're my babysitter, I guess." He knew from intelligence reports he'd seen that Steeljaw was a formidable tracker, and that his lion-like ruff concealed everything from miniaturized radar to geiger counters. Like Soundwave, Blaster specialized in communications, but Blaster had outfitted his symbionts with far more modifications and gadgets. From what Frenzy had picked up from intelligence reports, Blaster's gang had far more respect from the Autobots than he and his own siblings had ever enjoyed. Therefore, they got more funding and resources funneled their way for mods.

Underneath that heavy plating, twin pulse cannons, and his mantle of armor-protected sensors was a frame virtually identical to Ravage's. They _moved _the same, and his footfalls sounded very similar. If he averted his optics and ignored a Ravage-sized hole in his spark he could pretend, for a moment, that Ravage was trotting beside him.

Steeljaw chuckled, and said, "No, ki... Frenzy. Not a babysitter, or a guard. You're on video, y'know? You pull anything really stupid and Red Alert will deal with it. I got in trouble and this is my punishment detail. I asked for a couple shifts with you, though, over cleaning the wash racks or monitor duty."

"Hanging out with me is punishment?" He couldn't help but be offended by that, even if he did rank higher in Steeljaw's estimation than monitor duty.

"What? No. Pulling an extra shift - _that's _punishment." Steeljaw snorted. "Hanging out with you is not punishment. To tell the truth, it's good to meet someone who won't think I'm a freak because of Blaster. That's kinda why I asked to work with you."

"Oh. You got in trouble?" He wasn't sure what to think about anyone, particularly an Autobot, _asking _to work with him.

That got him a grin. "I turned a mouse loose in Sunstreaker's quarters."

"Was it worth it?" He couldn't help but ask that question. He'd have asked any of his siblings the same thing.

"He screamed like a little girl, and then he and Sideswipe spent the night dismantling his berth because it had gone underneath it. _Completely _worth it." Steeljaw's optics danced with bright amusement. "It was payback for a prank they pulled on Ramhorn."

Frenzy wanted to ask what prank ... but then he recalled the number of times he'd gotten revenge for some slight to one of his siblings or Soundwave. He hunched a bit, bitter longing rising. Steeljaw's mirth came from being part of a whole, complete gang of symbionts.

Probably in reaction to Frenzy's mood, Soundwave pinged him.

He about fell over in surprise, straightening up. _:Boss? Boss, you read me? You there?:_

:Kth5QQQk!k df ffffffrrrr!: The response was unintelligible, and Soundwave's worried mood turned to frustration and anger and fear.

_:Boss? It's okay.: _He tried to send reassurance, affection, he tried to feel confident and strong. Soundwave had enough to worry about. Not only had he lost five symbionts, but he had his injuries to deal with as well. Frenzy knew it was just as hard on Soundwave to lose them as it was him ... Frenzy's bond with Rumble notwithstanding, Soundwave had been so close to everybody.

Soundwave just felt more worried.

_:Love you, big guy,: _he thought, though he knew that Soundwave wouldn't understand.

The response to his words was just more worry and anxiety, along with a thin thread of curiosity. _:I'm fine, boss. Really. Just working.:_

Soundwave abruptly blocked the bond. Frenzy would have been more concerned by that if it weren't for the fact that Soundwave had started doing that every time his emotions got the better of him. He sighed. He couldn't go to Soundwave right now, surely the Autobots wouldn't want him taking time out of his assigned work - though part of him ached to do so and damn the consequences. Soundwave had been in deep recharge when Ratchet had woken Frenzy and sent him to see Optimus. He was likely very concerned because Frenzy was missing when he woke, but how did you explain, _Hey boss, I got a job! _when your master couldn't understand a slagging thing you said?

It was pointless. Soundwave would just have to worry until he got used to Frenzy leaving his side.

"You okay, kid?" Steeljaw asked.

"Huh?"

"You sorta faded out there."

"Sorry." He sighed. "Soundwave woke up. He's pretty upset, I think because I'm not there."

"Let's go see him before we start your shift." Steeljaw turned up a corridor that led towards the med bay.

"Won't we be late?" He was startled by that suggestion.

"Blaster's with Wheeljack right now. I just cleared it." Steeljaw's jaw tensed for a moment. He looked sharply away from Frenzy, then added, "I know how hard it is for you."

"We're enemies," he protested the kindness. He didn't want the Autobots to be kind. They'd deliberately tried to kill Soundwave and had ended the lives of his siblings.

That earned him a snort. "And Soundwave is big enough to cause some real damage if he panics, either to himself or to everyone around him. Let's just let him have a look at you. Believe me, I get carrier behavior. Blaster's about as reasonable as they come, but he's not my first carrier. And even Blaster has his moments ... anyway, I've been around the block a few times. I'll _drag _you down to the med bay if you don't come willingly."

Frenzy didn't feel like arguing too hard. Even though Soundwave was clearly trying to block his feelings, extreme anxiety was leaking across. It was enough to make him jittery, and he lengthened his stride.

"Blaster says he's getting pretty agitated," Steeljaw broke into a trot, and Frenzy had to run to keep up.

In the med bay, they found Soundwave standing, gripping the edge of a berth with both hands, and spitting frantic-sounding static at Ratchet. Ratchet, somewhat to Frenzy's surprise, was calmly going about his business. Said business was clearly prepping Eject for surgery - who looked up and greeted Steeljaw with a bright smile. Eject was missing an arm, and presumably in preparation for receiving a replacement, he had been hooked up to an array of monitors and an energon drip. He was sitting cross-legged on the berth with a somewhat goofy grin on his face.

"Yeah, yeah," Steeljaw said aloud to his bond-brother, likely in response to some silent comment. "Ratchet's already given you the good stuff, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," Eject said, and giggled. "I was neerrrrrrrvous. Now, I'm. I'm just happy. Happy."

Soundwave, meanwhile, took one look at Frenzy and then seemed to relax. He swayed in place, struggling to stay upright.

Ratchet glanced back at him briefly. "Watch out, you two. If he falls, he's big enough to squish you."

"Tell me something I don't know," Frenzy said, but he put a little extra distance between himself and his master. "Shouldn't he be sitting down?"

"He's been trying to walk all morning." Ratchet shrugged, as he swabbed at the (still giggling) Eject's empty shoulder socket with cleanser. "The more he tries, the better he'll get."

"But he could fall!" Frenzy worried.

"Yeah, he already has a couple of times. It's why I moved my monitors." Ratchet waved a hand at a bank of equipment that had been set on a high shelf.

"But ..."

"The worst he'll do is give himself a few dents." Ratchet's tone turned sharp. "And I can pound dents back out. Frenzy, if we run and coddle him every time he tries to get up, it will slow his recovery. He's a big boy. He's well aware he could fall. Let him decide if he wants to take the risk or not."

Frenzy hesitated, watching Soundwave. He just looked so unstable. Soundwave, meanwhile, regarded him for a moment from behind his visor, and then abruptly pushed himself away from the table. He stumbled and swayed and staggered, but he made it four strides across the room in the direction of a chair. He caught himself against the wall, and then heaved himself around and dropped into the chair with a clatter and a bang of uncoordinated metal limbs.

Imperiously, he pointed at his knee.

Frenzy found he didn't particularly want to sit in Soundwave's lap like a sparkling. He'd never been cuddly with Soundwave before. It wasn't really his nature to snuggle unless he was completely distraught. He hesitated, torn between wanting to comply with what was a clear order from his master, and not wanting to look like a child. It didn't bother him to look vulnerable in front of Ratchet, for some reason, but he didn't want Steeljaw to see, and Blaster and Wheeljack had just walked into the room.

Soundwave repeated the gesture.

"The things I do for you, boss ..." he sighed and scrambled up. Soundwave was injured, and he couldn't bring himself to argue. It was only his dignity at stake.

Somewhat to his surprise, Soundwave didn't hug him. Instead, he was subjected to a very careful head to toe inspection. Soundwave was clearly looking for damage. He grinned at the others in rueful tolerance as Soundwave checked him over. Only when he'd satisfied himself that Frenzy was unharmed did he pat Frenzy on the head and give him a gentle shove to encourage him to get down. Frenzy could feel the relief in Soundwave's spark that he had not been harmed.

He told the others, "Guess he just wanted to make sure I hadn't been dented by any of my mortal enemies."

Steeljaw chuckled. "Given how you can fight, I'm think you're pretty safe from deliberate denting. I can't see anyone picking on you just for fun."

He blinked at the compliment. At least, he thought it was a compliment - one warrior to another.

Steeljaw added, "I'd love to spar with you someday."

"Really?" Now _that _stunned him.

"Sure." Steeljaw grinned broadly. "Though your boss might disapprove."

From beside Eject, Blaster chuckled. "Would he disapprove, or would he want to watch?"

"Oh, he would want to watch." Soundwave had made no secret of his pride and pleasure in Frenzy's ability to hold his own in a fight. He wondered if it would make Soundwave happy if he trounced the Autobot symbiont in a sparring match. The emotions he was getting from Soundwave were so miserable that he'd do just about anything to cheer him up.

Ratchet, who was scrubbing Eject's shoulder socket out with a wad of steel wool and sizable amounts of degreaser, spoke up. "Just make sure you two have Ironhide or Sideswipe supervising. I've got enough dents to fix," he flicked Eject in the audio sensor, "without adding training injuries to the mix. And Steeljaw, do remember that Frenzy has no obligation to help you improve your skills against his own faction."

Frenzy snorted. At the moment, his resentment towards the Decepticons was running so high that he was ready to grab a wad of that steel wool from Ratchet and scrub his sigil off. Only Soundwave's likely reaction to that action stopped him. Soundwave took his oaths seriously, and one of them had been an oath of loyalty to Megatron.

He said sharply, "I'd be delighted to spar with Steeljaw, actually."

"Hnh. My comment about supervision stands. That's an _order_, Steeljaw," Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer, and outranked by only a handful of other mechs on Earth, said with firm command in his voice.

Blaster added, "One I'll back up. - Hey "Eject, you falling asleep there, kiddo?"

"Nnnhnn ..." Eject was swaying in place. "Steeljaw, you wanna score ..."

Steeljaw nervously chuckled, "Eject, you're stoned stupid."

Blaster laughed aloud, short and sharp and amused.

"Gonna score ... gonna wanna score ... wanna score ... Frenzy get a hole in one with Frenzy ... get ..." Eject, to Frenzy's mystification, started giggling and babbling something about Frenzy being a good catcher.

"Okay, that's enough sports talk," Ratchet reached an arm out and flipped a switch on the IV stand. Eject, two nanoclicks later, and in mid sentence, slumped forward. Ratchet caught him without missing a beat, and kept scrubbing his shoulder. He rolled his optics at Blaster, "I swear, he's never met a sport he didn't like. You drug him and it's _all _he talks about. Blaster, remember the time we had to keep him sedated for a couple of days while his auto-repair dealt with that deep burn to his protoform?"

"Yeah," Blaster smirked, "He was on a golf kick. He talked about golf for two days straight. - Steeljaw, you and Frenzy should go get to work before Prowl gets on Wheeljack's aft for letting you slack off. Shoo."

"Yessir." Steeljaw turned briefly to Frenzy. "Let's go. We'll stop by Wheeljack's lab to get some buckets for the mice. We live trap 'em."

"So we need to kill them after we catch them? Eww." He trotted out the door after Steeljaw, who suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

Steeljaw rolled his optics without breaking stride. "No. Wheeljack decreed that we need to let them loose outside. Alive."

"... Why?" Frenzy was completely mystified by that. They'd turned mice loose on the firing range to practice pinpoint accuracy shooting on the Nemesis.

"Because Wheeljack thinks they're cute."

"Does he know that mice chew and pee everywhere?" Frenzy said, both optic ridges going up. As one of the smallest of the Nemesis's crew, he'd done his share of repairs related to rodent damage. Not all of the rodents-like critters were even terrestrial in origin. There was a very good reason why many Cybertronians had a very firm dislike of organic worlds, and it had to do with the damage vermin could cause when they got loose in delicate systems. He had been an eager participant in mice-shooting on the Nemesis.

"He knows." Steeljaw sighed. "Trust me, he knows. He still thinks they're cute."

"Well they, are, sorta, but the damage ..."

"Trust me. He knows." 

* * *

Ratchet leaned on a drill for a moment to tighten up a bolt. Out of his peripheral vision he could see Soundwave, who had made it over to a work bench and struggled into the chair. He was now inspecting the contents of the drawers, and Ratchet judged he was likely bored. Bored was better than the anxiety he had been showing earlier, so he pretended to ignore him.

He was, actually, evaluating Soundwave's level of neural functioning. He could tell a lot about the damage by how Soundwave behaved when nobody was paying any attention to him. He'd already figured out that Soundwave's optical processing was working much better than his auditory circuits.

Blaster, watching Soundwave as Ratchet repaired Eject, said, "You know, that's creepy."

"What is?" Ratchet tightened up a tension wire in incremental amounts.

"... Soundwave. You say he's all there?"

"I suspect, cognitively, he's pretty normal in many ways."

"Other than not being able to understand us."

Ratchet paused for a second. "Funny how our mind works. When you hear or see something that is language, there's a a module in your sensor arrays that shunts that data to your language centers for decryption. His actual language centers are intact, but the connection between the module that says, 'Hey, that's language!' and his language libraries is broken. So he may know he's hearing words, but he can't decrypt 'em into useful data."

"Can't you fix the connection?"

"I don't have the equipment for it. It's very specialized nanoscale work. I don't think that sort of lab even exists anymore." Ratchet rubbed his forehead with two fingers. "Even if I did have the equipment ... the repairs were never perfect. Sometimes they didn't work at all."

Soundwave had found a stylus and a datapad. Ratchet craned his neck for a moment to see what Soundwave was doing. The big mech stared at the datapad for a long moment, then started to draw or (attempt) to write something.

Ratchet tapped his head with one finger. "The internal connections between his cortex and the language centers remain intact, so he can _think_, but he's locked in his own head."

"What about a software fix?" Blaster made a swooping gesture with one hand. "Reroute the data. Send it the back way straight to his cortex, from there into language libraries, and then bounce it back to his cortex. It'd be slower and error prone, but I'd think it would be possible."

As the Autobot's Communications Officer, Blaster knew a fair bit about both Cybertronian systems and engineering in general. Ratchet figured if they did try something like that someday, Blaster would be on his short list - along with Wheeljack - to work on the code. However, Blaster hadn't actually seen the level fo damage to Soundwave's sensor modules. Ratchet was just happy that Soundwave could see and feel, at the moment.

"There's a problem." Ratchet pressed his lips together. "I'd have to set up a hard line connection, actually solder a lead into his cortex, to install the firmware."

"His dataport router's screwed?"

He explained to Blaster, "No, but it relies on the language libraries to interpret incoming commands. If it can't understand the commands we give it, we can't access his code through it. We'd have to set up a hard line, write a translation program to turn commands to machine code, and pray we didn't introduce a bug that brought down a his whole system in a cascade failure. I _have _done that sort of procedure a few times, though not for this sort of injury - to manually rebuild fragged machine code after a major OS crash."

"Did that work?" Blaster gave him a look like he'd just admitted to being Primus himself. "I didn't even know that sort of a fix was possible. Your OS goes down, I thought you needed a whole system restore."

"I've made it work." Ratchet rubbed his face with his hand. "We didn't have a backup for the mechs I've done it for. One was a civilian, and another two were 'cons who tried to wipe themselves on capture. The fourth idiot was a rather well-thought-out suicide attempt by another medic. - Anyway, was Eject really babbling about Steeljaw liking Frenzy?"

At the work bench, Soundwave impatiently erased the image he'd been drawing and set the datapad down with a sharp click. It was impossible to tell what his expression was behind that mask, and his posture was neutral, but he'd put the device down with a little more force than necessary. Ratchet wondered if he'd been trying to draw an image or attempting to write something, and he wished Frenzy were around to ask if he was angry or just frustrated.

Blaster's answer swiftly drew his attention back to the communications officer, however.

Blaster laughed. "Steeljaw really likes Frenzy's frame type."

"Primus." Ratchet soldered a couple wires into place before adding, "And you volunteered him to work with the little glitch?"

Blaster smirked. "Make love, not war."

"Primus!" Ratchet repeated, "Frenzy's a con, Blaster, with a bad temper and a badder attitude. He's on his best behavior now, and ... he's not a bad kid, I don't think, but he's also going to have quite a few issues."

Blaster shrugged. "Steeljaw can deal with it. He's one of the strongest mechs I know - when I think of what he's gone through in his life, it's amazing he's as steady as he is. What _I _see is that Frenzy's _been _quantum bound to primitives like Steeljaw. He knows Steelie's not an animal. He sees him as a person, not a 'creature' - that's hard for Steeljaw to find. Ma man's got it rough, Ratchet. Even on this ship there's plenty of mechs who think my guys are either smart drones or somehow extensions of my own spark."

Ratchet huffed a sigh. If he'd known this was Blaster's reason for suggesting Steeljaw work with Frenzy he would have fought the pairing all the way to Prime ... who, romantic sap that he was, would probably have sided with Blaster. He still would have tried to stop the damned matchmaking, though. With a dark scowl he said, "Well, I highly doubt Frenzy will return any advances he makes. Do you have _any _idea what Decepticon culture's like?"

Blaster snorted. "Head of Communications, remember? I spy on their communications as part of my job." He continued, however, interrupting Ratchet's attempt to clarify just how bad it could be for Decepticons, "_And_ speaking as a carrier, I can say with a fair degree of certainty that Frenzy's been sheltered from the worst elements of his faction. Soundwave would send him into combat before he'd leave him unprotected on the Nemesis. He'd probably rather Frenzy die a clean death than be subjected to ... Primus. Anyway. The only question is, just _how _protective was Papa?" Blaster glanced over at Soundwave, who had found a half-disassembled hand in one of the work drawers, and seemed to be studying it with morbid fascination.

"Very protective." Ratchet hooked a datapad up to Eject's clavicle datajack and started running some diagnostics. Eject's arm had been blown off at the shoulder during the last fight, and it had taken Wheeljack a few days to fashion a replacement. Eject, tough kid that he was, had picked the remnants of his arm up, blocked his pain from the rest of his team so as to not distract them during the continuing battle, and walked half a mile on foot until he caught a ride back to the Arc with Optimus.

It was probably best not to let Frenzy - or, probably, Eject - know that Wheeljack had used some of Rumble's parts to repair the arm. He and Wheeljack had gleaned every usable part they could from the bodies, and then set Wheeljack to the grim task of making cosmetic replacements for the visible bits like optics and sensor arrays.

Ratchet grimaced when an error came back from a sensor in Eject's wrist, and grabbed a smaller set of tools to go fishing for what was probably a broken electrical lead. He'd tested the arm before attaching it, but had apparently missed something.

Blaster reached out and held Eject's hand steady while Ratchet worked. Ratchet glanced up at him briefly. There were some mechs he wouldn't let within a hundred yards of med bay when working on their loved ones. Blaster wasn't one of them. Blaster did the repairs on his own symbionts when he was in the field, and the little fraggers were _always _getting slagged up one way or another. He usually did the work right, too. Ratchet seldom had something to complain about when he inspected the work later.

And he'd learned a long time ago not to get between a carrier and his symbionts. Blaster was mellow enough, but carrier instinct was powerful.

Blaster snorted. "You're saying I should have a talk with Steeljaw about being careful with the innocent, naive little Decepticon?"

"Something like that." Ratchet started connecting energon lines to the arm now that the electrical bits were testing good. They'd know in a few days if Frenzy's protoform accepted the repaired limb. If it was rejected, he'd have to start over from scratch. He took his time to make sure all the connections were good now, and only after running several tests did he say, "Look, I know you mean well, but I think it's a lousy idea to encourage Steeljaw. Frenzy needs friends and supports. He damn sure doesn't need romance. But - I never understimate the stupidity of young soldiers. You make sure Steeljaw understands he's playing with fire. I'll make sure the innocent little Decepticon actually knows the facts of life."

"Surely ..."

Ratchet quirked an optic ridge at Blaster. "I've been a medic longer than you've been alive. I've learned the hard way to _never _assume a mech knows the facts of life."

That earned him a laugh. "True, true." It was clear that Blaster didn't quite believe him, however.

He huffed a sigh, but made a mental note to really _have _that talk with the kid. He wasn't joking. He didn't care if it embarrassed the young soldier into stasis lock. He'd much rather embarrass a patient with a lecture versus deal with damage caused by, err, operator error ... or worse, deal with an unintended sparkling on a warship.

Primus. The thought of any of the Autobots getting involved with Frenzy made his plating twitch. It just plain sounded like trouble, between Soundwave's paranoid protectiveness and Frenzy's own recent history. And the thing was, there were less than fifty Autobots on Earth. Everybody had either paired off already, or they didn't have any suitable prospects for a compatible partner.

Frenzy, Decepticon insignia, short stature and his bond to Soundwave notwithstanding, would be viewed with definite interest by a good portion of those single mechs. Some of them would be fantasizing about getting him to switch sides, winning his affection, and changing his very nature through the healing powers of true love. Most would ignore his real needs and true nature in favor of their own desires to play hero to the poor little 'Con.

Ratchet was pretty sure that true love was a myth, and he'd dealt with the emotional or physical aftermath of one too many affairs gone wrong. He didn't think he had any illusions when it came to romance.

Yes. He _definitely _needed to have a little chat with Frenzy about the birdbots and the insecticons, just to make sure that the kid knew everything he needed to. Ratchet really didn't want to have 'make a sparkling protoform using available Earth technology' on his to-do list any time in the near future.

"There." He finished the work on Eject's arm, and reached up to snap off the energon drip. After checking the monitor displays one last time, he disconnected the symbiont, scooped him up, and handed him to Blaster. "Go take him to the recovery room. Yell if he does anything unusual waking up like, oh, _not _babble deliriously about sports. I'll be in Smokescreen's office with him and Soundwave for most of the afternoon."

"Thanks, Ratchet." Blaster ran a hand over Eject's forehead gently.

Ratchet smiled, and rested his hand on Blaster's arm. "No problem. He's a good little guy. You're lucky, you know."

"To have them in my life? Yeah." Blaster's tone turned soft. "I am lucky."

"Get." Ratchet gave him a friendly shove. "Go on. I've got work to do."

"Thanks, doc."

Over at the work bench, Soundwave was watching him with his head tilted to one side, as if curious about something. He was very still, and seemed very focused.

"What?" Ratchet demanded. "Never seen Autobots be mushy before?"

After a bit, Soundwave turned back to the desk. He appeared to be organizing Ratchet's racks of screwdrivers by size.

"You _must _be bored," Ratchet told him.

"kTkkqppzzzsssK!k!" Soundwave replied. He picked a drill bit out of the pile of screwdivers, and dropped it into an appropriate drawer.

"Everyone's a critic." Ratchet shook his head. "And I don't know if you realize it, Soundwave, but if you can sort a pile of tools by type, you're in better shape than I'd feared." 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five - An Adjustment of Plans

* * *

Author's Notes:

I really need to go back and fix some typos in the previous chapters. I'm really sorry about that.

* * *

The medic was a sucker.

Soundwave had never expected to discover that about the legendary CMO of the Autobots. He'd expected him to be more sadistic than Motormaster, and crazier. There were a multitude of legends about Ratchet, some dating back to before the war. The one that stuck in Soundwave's mind, however, had happened at the beginning of hostilities. It had forever established Ratchet's reputation as a true warrior in Soundwave's mind.

Half a dozen Decepticon warriors had tried to kill the Autobot medics in their own camp during a pitched battle. The other medics had scattered, terrified. Some had been slain as they ran. Ratchet, however, had been working on an unconscious patient who had an arm-mounted cannon. He'd grabbed the patient's arm, without hesitation fired the cannon, and had killed all six warriors with startling efficiency and good aim.

And _then _he'd sent a politely worded text message to Megatron, expressing gratitude for the unexpected delivery of needed spare parts.

Soundwave had seen the message. Megatron, incensed, had slapped a printout of the message down on his desk and demanded that he see to Ratchet's demise. Soundwave had been secretly amused by the medic's black humor, but had dutifully made a good faith effort to schedule an assassination of the medic. Ratchet had proved far too wily to easily kill, and had never lacked weapons of his own after that day.

His aim with a laser rifle, and lightning quick reflexes, were _very _well known. He was also impossible to rattle, and seemed to react to attempts on his life with indignation rather than fear.

Therefore, he was stunned to think that it was the very same mech who'd held him last night, while he had an utterly embarrassing breakdown. He thought he'd figured Ratchet out, however, and he felt the first flickers of hope. He might just be able to use the medic's real nature to his own benefit.

Megatron had rejected him. Soundwave would have preferred to have returned to the Nemesis and found some way to make himself useful for his lord, but clearly, Megatron wasn't going to give him the chance. Megatron's actions towards Frenzy and himself made Soundwave very reluctant to ever give _Megatron _another opportunity. He wasn't particularly worried about his own welfare - a small part of him knew that oblivion would be a welcome release - but he had Frenzy to think about.

He needed someone who would find him valuable. Soundwave had survived through some very tough times by being efficient, loyal, and dependable. He had always found someone with power and influence and had dedicated himself to protecting them and making their life easier. It was always a win-win situation.

And now, he'd never been more desperate.

He watched as Ratchet rummaged through a somewhat disorganized cabinet.

Megatron had a vicious temper, and not much sentimentality. He valued that which was useful to him, and he could be cold-sparked and unsympathetic to anything that wasn't.

Ratchet had a temper that wasn't quite as nasty as Megatron's, and he was far more sentimental. He was, Soundwave had decided, quite a sucker. It wasn't a word he would use aloud (even had he been able to speak) but he could almost hear Rumble laughing and chanting it with gleeful discovery. Ratchet was someone who would champion an underdog, help the unfortunate, and empathize with the pain of others ... and want to fix it. That temper would be raised in the defense of those who couldn't defend themselves, and he wasn't always logical his attachments to others.

Soundwave could use that.

He would be that underdog. And he would be _useful_. He would make himself someone that Ratchet would value, defend, and champion. It would be a win-win relationship, of course. Soundwave would get a powerful boss he could trust and rely upon. Ratchet would find that Soundwave was a very efficient and valuable worker.

He'd observed a few things over the morning, as he'd watched the activity in the med bay, and was formulating a plan.

Ratchet, he'd noted, was badly overworked. He seemed to have one assistant - First Aid - and a couple part-time helpers, Wheeljack and a couple other engineers who pitched in for maintenance and minor repairs. Ratchet had been working from the moment he'd walked into the med bay. Soundwave couldn't read his chrono, but he was pretty sure it was very early in the morning when Ratchet had hauled him down to the med bay and deposited him in a chair.

He'd watched as Ratchet had done everything from change coolant (a task well below his pay grade!) to performing surgery on Blaster's cassette. Aside from taking time to briefly talk to Blaster, Ratchet had been in non-stop motion. He'd even drank his morning energon on the go, consuming swallows in between adjusting the calibration on Ironhide's shoulders and, apparently, yelling at Ironhide.

The medic seemed to be neat by inclination, but he was just too busy to keep things organized in practice. He had stacks of datapads, boxes of parts, and tubs of tools scattered about in a sort of chaotic order. Things were sorted, and generally clean, but not _organized_. He'd watched Ratchet rummage about in boxes a couple of times as he sought a socket or a screwdriver in a specific size.

Soundwave was forming a plan,while watching him. His first action, shaky balance or no, would be to make himself useful cleaning. Even if he had to lean on furniture or sweep while sitting on a rolling chair he expected he could tidy up a bit. From there, he would find other ways to lessen Ratchet's work load. He wanted the medic to value having him around.

The med bay doors swished open, admitting Bluestreak, who was cradling his hand to his chest. Ratchet had been scrubbing a medical berth down with detergent, but looked up at Bluestreak's entry. He scowled, vented a frustrated sounding hiss, and pointed at the other berth. Bluestreak winced visibly, but seated himself.

Soundwave craned his neck to see what the damage was. Bluestreak had popped a screw loose on a finger, and it was visibly bent to one side. Wires sparked, torn loose from either small actuators or sensor pads. To fix that, he knew from experience, Ratchet was going to need a new screw, a screwdriver, a replacement finger hinge, a soldering gun, and some wire.

He'd found a hand in Ratchet's desk drawer earlier. He had hoped it was not from a dead mech, though given how tight everyone was for parts, he supposed that was possible. More likely, though, Ratchet had upgraded or replaced somebody's hand and kept the old one for spare parts.

Soundwave retrieved the hand, verified it was the right size, and by the time Ratchet looked up from inspecting the damage, he had the hinge free. Ratchet stared at him.

He smiled behind his face plate, knowing Ratchet couldn't see the expression. Soundwave was _not _stupid. He was perfectly capable of figuring out what parts a medic would need.

He added a screw, wires, sensors, and an appropriately sized screwdriver to the pile. Ratchet kept glancing in his direction, optical ridges raising ever higher. After he finished the exam of Bluestreak's hand, he walked over and looked at the pile, then up at Soundwave, then back down at the assembled bits. Then he reached into a drawer, pulled a brush out, and handed the brush and a bottle of detergent to Soundwave and pointed at the sink and at the hinge. Then he grinned.

That grin was unexpected. It was so _approving_. He reacted with a reflexive smile behind his mask, startled by how good it felt to have the medic's approval. Then he reminded himself to maintain a sharp level of detachment. It would be too easy to be seduced into thinking the Autobot a friend. He'd learned a long time ago that there were no friends outside his bonded symbionts, only allies that he granted varying amounts of trust.

He hoped to earn Ratchet's approval, sympathy, and even his loyalty. He reminded himself not to get emotionally attached himself.

The sink was several strides away, and that was a somewhat intimidating distance given how unstable he still felt. Still, if it would please the mech he hoped to make his new master, it was worth the risk of a humiliating fall. Soundwave picked the finger joint up and used the wall for balance, taking one cautious step at a time.

Behind him, Bluestreak said something that sounded worried. Ratchet responded with a comment that was short and sharp, and then a longer-winded explanation. When Soundwave made it to the sink and risked a look back, Ratchet had moved his exam to Bluestreak's wrist. Whatever the gunner had done that had damaged his finger could certainly have caused additional damage, and Ratchet was clearly checking for other issues. Bluestreak, eyes narrowed, watched him suspiciously over Ratchet's shoulder.

Soundwave thought, _Not a threat, just a servant, _and tried to look very servant-like. He kept his shoulders relaxed, his face downturned (even though he was looking up through his visor at them, they couldn't see his optics) and his hands open at his sides. He had long practice with submissive body language.

While still warily regarding the Autobot soldier, he started scrubbing the part down. He was well aware that it needed to be free of grease and dirt before Ratchet soldered sensor wires to it. After vigorous application of detergent, he squirted it with solvent and rinsed that off.

He was inspecting the part carefully for any residual grunge when Ratchet padded over and clapped him happily on the arm. Ratchet smiled approvingly at him, grabbed the part and the supplies he'd piled on the desk, and then went back to Bluestreak. Bluestreak looked at the part like it might bite him, and Ratchet laughed at him.

Soundwave smiled behind his mask, pleased with himself. He couldn't understands the words but it was clear that Ratchet was defending him and teasing the young soldier.

Frenzy said something across the bond, probably curious about Soundwave's pleasant emotion. He'd been pretty negative for a couple of days. Soundwave very nearly fell down in surprise when he understood a single word. _:sdf!Gqqq! boss htKK!5ss ...:_

:Frenzy?: he said, cautiously, but elated. He'd heard that single word, and it meant all the world.

_:... can you ddghhkkk! me?: _Soaring hope hit him as Frenzy, clearly, _did _understand his name.

_:Soundwave ...: _his name came out as static. He tried again, and this time, managed to say, _:Soundwave hears.:_

:Boss, hold on. I'll be there in a second!:

It was as clear as a bell. He laughed aloud, something that made Bluestreak jump and Ratchet narrow his eyes in suspicion. He tried speaking, "Soundwave ... ffffkkkT!"

He needed, it seemed, to speak slower or the data stream of language overwhelmed whatever tiny connection his autorepair had made. He tried again, patiently, "Soundwave ... understands ... a little."

Ratchet hopped up and padded over. He didn't catch anything the medic said, though it sounded delighted. He said, "Slower ... speak ... slower."

Ratchet said, voice clear and slow, "This is excellent, Soundwave. Your autorepair will build on that connection."

He realized, belatedly, that he could read his HUD again. In fact, he'd been able to understand the words for several minutes. It was such a part of him, so natural, he hadn't realized that the ability had come back. He smirked behind his mask. "Megatron ... fool. Soundwave get back most functions now, yes?"

"C'mon." Ratchet caught his arm. "Lean on me. We need to go talk. Bluestreak, I pinged First Aid. He'll finish your hand. If you don't mind, I want to talk to ..."

A small blur shot through the doorway, and skidded to a halt. All he heard from Frenzy was a fierce burst of static. Frenzy made a move like he intended to hug Soundwave, but he pulled himself up short, and said, _:dfsd$$ talk DFGjjjkk Soundwave you can DGdfgf!:_

He mentally filled in the blanks and decided that the kid had said something like, 'You can talk! Soundwave, you can talk!' With a smile behind his mask he said, "A little."

His own voice sounded odd - static laden and thick, with weird tonalities. He wasn't sure if he was pronouncing things incorrectly or if he was simply not processing the sounds right. Input or output errors? Or both? The latter was all too frighteningly unlikely.

His optical input fritzed out briefly, making him tense in surprise. For a moment, he saw only white and gold and purple visual static.

Still, right now, as it stood, he thought he'd regained enough function to ... function. And he had a wild, thrilling hope that he might get more. He wouldn't be a cripple. He wouldn't be forever isolated in his own head.

Blaster's feline symbiont trotted through the doorway. Frenzy spun, saw him, and launched himself at the other cassette. He threw his arms around Steeljaw's neck and shouted something too fast for Soundwave to begin to process. Clearly, that was the hug that Frenzy had wanted to give Soundwave, redirected to a new target. Frenzy wasn't much more touchy-feely than Soundwave himself was, though, and Soundwave realized just how badly Frenzy must have been affected.

The Autobot cassette rocked back on his heels and for a moment, Soundwave was afraid he'd react with violence. However, Steeljaw simply sat up on his back legs, and wrapped both forelegs around Frenzy's shoulders. In a much calmer and slower tone of voice he said, "I'm really glad for you, Frenzy."

_:Frenzy,: _he said, alarmed for reasons he couldn't begin to identify, _:Behavior, inappropriate. Autobot, not friend.:_

:Awwwww!: Frenzy let go of Steeljaw. _:I like him. I wish he was a 'con.:_

:We are no longer Decepticons.: He'd decided that with very little difficulty. _:Megatron, betrayed. Neutrals.:_

:You're not gonna try to get back into Megatron's good graces again?:

:No. Damage, extensive. Defensive abilities, minimal. Usefulness, compromised. Status, lost. Decepticon enemies, many. Megatron, no loyalty to us despite faithful service. Unsafe to return. And, angry at Megatron. For what he did to you.:

:Eh, can't say as I haven't been making the same calculations.: Frenzy pushed himself free from Steeljaw, a bit roughly. "Okay, mouse breath, I'm all done with my emotional moment."

"_Mouse _breath?" Steeljaw breathed, with amusement in his voice. But he let Frenzy free.

_:Boss, it is so good to fgsdfkjg your voice again.: _Frenzy stood before him, looking up at him. _:I don't wgfdgsdsss how much you understood. Optimus says we can stay. I'm working on dfsd! maintenance. It's easy work. Steeljaw dfsdgkkk!kk were doing pest control this ddfkkdbs.:_

Hence, Soundwave concluded, the 'mouse breath' comment. He'd have to get the entire story from Frenzy later. It would be so very good to sit down with Frenzy and just listen to him chatter. He'd often found Frenzy's ability to talk about the most inane of things annoying - Soundwave was _not _prone to small talk - but he'd never again resent the distraction that Frenzy sometimes represented.

_:Do not trust them,: _he cautioned, firmly. _:They are enemies.:_

:Duh. I'd trust Autobots ffkkk! Decepticons, though!:

With every burst of static, snow clouded his optical input. He frowned, not liking that effect. There was also a buzzing sensation in his head. Slowly, he said, "Ratchet, I think ..."

Noise roared. All he could see was gold and purple static snow. He tried to cry out but couldn't tell if he'd made a noise. He didn't realize he was falling until he impacted the ground with stunning force.

Errors screamed through his processor, and for a moment he could read them. To his terror, they were_ critical _errors, warning of a cascade failure. He was going into a hard crash.

_:Frenzyyyy!: _he screamed into the bond, not knowing if his symbiont would hear him. There wasn't a thing Frenzy could do, but he wanted to hear Frenzy's voice. He wanted to know Frenzy was there, with him. _:Don't leave me, don't leave me ...:_

He couldn't even detect Frenzy's response. He was completely alone inside the howling chaos of his mind.

He didn't want to lose consciousness entirely, for he was desperately afraid he'd never wake. Against his will, terrified, oblivion swallowed him.

His last thought was that he didn't want to die. 

* * *

Frenzy knew it was bad when Ratchet started swearing.

One minute, Soundwave was _back_. Talking. Giving him very welcome orders. Being _himself_. Frenzy's relief had been incredible.

And then the next moment, Soundwave's visor went dark. He'd taken one staggering step and then crashed to the ground, limbs first utterly limp and then suddenly rigid. Frenzy could feel Soundwave's terror for a nanoclick, he sensed Soundwave screaming for him, and then ... nothing.

"SLAG!" Ratchet had shouted. Then he'd snarled something encrypted over his comm that got him an instant response from multiple other mechs. Frenzy, trained by the best communications expert that the Decepticons had, automatically picked Optimus's frequency and Wheeljack's out of the mix, shortly followed by Prowl and Perceptor, then Skyfire. Had this been normal times, in the field, that sort of response to a message would have told him it was important.

At the moment, however, he was too stunned-scared-shocked to even _think _and he dismissed decrypting the message in exchange for demanding, "What's wrong? What's wrong?"

"Get him out of here!" Ratchet snarled at nobody in particular, but clearly meaning _get Frenzy out._

"No!" He protested. "Like slag, no, you can't ..."

"GET OUT!" Ratchet turned to him, fury in his voice.

Frenzy rocked back on his heels, and then his own anger surfaced. "DAMN YOU!"

A pair of strong hands - articulated paws - not much larger than his own rested on his shoulders. He spun to fight, to strike out, to maim and to kill. Steeljaw wasn't really built for embracing anyone, but he managed to pull Frenzy to him. "Shh. Let Ratchet work. He doesn't want you here because he'll be distracted."

Behind them, Soundwave's legs spasmed, knocking over a chair. Ratchet swore again.

"Let's go." Steeljaw tried to guide him towards the door.

"NO!"

"Yes." Steeljaw nudged him towards the door harder.

He didn't have the strength to resist, though part of him was very angry at Steeljaw for taking him away. He barely registered Steeljaw telling Ratchet that they'd be in his quarters. He heard Soundwave's legs drumming on the ground. There was an awful, echoing silence across the bond. Soundwave wasn't just unconscious, he was in deep stasis lock ... no, this was worse than stasis lock. Something was very, very wrong.

Blaster opened the door as they approached his quarters. Blue optics, wide with concern, regarded both of them. It was that _look _that ended Frenzy's anger. Blaster's expression was full of real worry. Nobody had ever cared about him but his siblings and Shockwave, but Blaster was a carrier too, and he _understood _on a level that most mechs just couldn't.

Blaster's other symbionts crowded around his knees, looking past his legs at Frenzy and Steeljaw. He knew by the looks they were trading that they were chattering excitedly amongst themselves. He felt a whole new wave of pain as he remembered gossiping with his own lost siblings.

"C'mon, Frenzy." Steeljaw padded past Blaster. "Boss, do we have any energon?"

"I'll get some," Blaster said. Then he crouched down briefly, and rested a hand on Frenzy's shoulder. "Frenzy, listen to me. Whatever happens, you've got a place here. You won't be alone. If need be, you can stay with me and my gang for a bit, okay?"

"I think Soundwave's gonna die," Frenzy whispered.

"Ratchet," Steeljaw replied, with confidence in his voice, "isn't going to let him do that. Ratchet works miracles."

Blaster met Frenzy's eyes. Frenzy shook his head. "I can't even feel ... he's there, but it's like he's _not_."

"Steeljaw, stay with him." Blaster squeezed Frenzy's shoulder. "I'll get some fuel."

After Blaster - and the rest of his pack of little mechs - had left the room, Steeljaw guided him to the room's couch. "C'mon, kiddo." Steeljaw hopped up on it. "All you can do is wait, now. You'll know before the rest of us when Ratchet succeeds."

"I don't want to live without them," Frenzy said. He sat on the edge of the couch and wondered if it would be okay if he leaned against Steeljaw. It would be a little like curling up with his siblings. Then he decided it would just be too weird, and a painful reminder of what he'd lost. He leaned back against the cushions instead, shut his optics off, and tried to focus on the thin thread of a bond that belonged to Soundwave.

Steeljaw didn't say anything for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was lower than usual. "I get that. They don't understand, do they, what it is like?"

Without being told, Frenzy knew that it was so-called 'normal' mechs who didn't understand. He shuttered his optics. These Autobots might be insanely kind and Primusly saintly in their offer to - what, keep him company? - but it wouldn't replace his siblings and master. He changed the subject slightly. "No, they don't understand what the bond is like. You know, Starscream once tried to get me to betray Soundwave so he could assassinate him and Megatron."

Steeljaw snorted. "He'd have been smarter to try to get Soundwave to betray Megatron."

"Oh, that wouldn't have happened. Soundwave is loyal. Was loyal." Frenzy shook his head. "Starscream likened the bond to slavery. He assumed I secretly resented being bound, that I wanted my freedom, and that was an angle he could use to turn me against my own master. I reacted about as you'd expect I'd react ..."

"How much swearing?"

"About blew out my vocalizer." He glanced over at Steeljaw, amused despite everything.

The feline cassette grinned toothily. "You can't claim I don't know your vocabulary, kiddo. I've heard you and Rumble over the airwaves often enough."

He hunched his shoulders. The mention of his brother hurt.

Steeljaw reached a paw out, and for the first time, Frenzy really looked at that limb. He was surprised to see that the cat's paws transformed into hands. Steeljaw squeezed his arm. "... I bet you told Starscream off, and then told Soundwave all about it."

"I told Soundwave first, actually, and then cussed Starscream out. Starscream beat the slag out of me, and Soundwave barely got there in time." Frenzy smirked. Soundwave had been almost as furious at him for mouthing off to Starscream as he had been angry at Starscream, but the dents had been worth it. "Soundwave might have been outranked by Starscream, but Megatron didn't say a thing when Soundwave damn near killed Starscream. Only reason Soundwave didn't finish him was that he didn't want to be second in command."

"He didn't want that?"

"Naw."

"Why?" Steeljaw sounded genuinely curious.

"Lots of reasons. He'd be in the direct line of fire for Megatron's temper, he'd have had to deal with commanding the seekers - which no sane mech would want to do - and he'd have had far more duties than espionage and communications. Being Megatron's favorite spies kept us alive, y'know? We always knew when the slag was going down."

Steeljaw chuckled.

Frenzy continued, with a shrug, "And we _did _want Starscream as second. Shockwave would have been the other option for second in command, if Soundwave declined. Dunno about you, but I'd rather have Starscream as a boss than Shockwave, any day."

"Crazy versus blatantly sociopathic. Yeah, I can see that." Steeljaw nodded. "I bet Starscream was easier to manipulate, too. Your boss's survival odds would definitely go down with Shockwave, if he got it into his head that Soundwave was a threat to him."

Frenzy stretched his legs out and stared at his feet for a moment, before nodding. He mused, "Autobot politics are so much less deadly."

That earned him a real laugh. "True, though Jazz can be damned scary if you piss him off."

"Jazz, not Prowl?" Prowl was in charge of base discipline, as far as he could recall.

"Prowl's predictable and consistent." Steeljaw grinned. "Jazz, not so much, and he's a lot less tolerant of stupidity."

The conversation was a welcome distraction. He could have kissed Steeljaw for letting him go off on a tangent. He was trying to wrap his head around the apparently popular and sociable commander being the _bad _guy when the door opened again. Blaster padded back into the room alone, without his pack of cassettes, and sat down on the couch. He quietly handed Frenzy a cube.

"I'm not hungry." He stared into container, frowning.

"Eat, kid. You need to fuel." Blaster patted him on the arm.

"Of course, if you don't want it ..." Steeljaw reached out for the energon.

That triggered Frenzy's competitive streak. He'd been short on rations for far too many years to be willing to share. He gulped the fuel down quickly, and without really thinking about it. He'd been mostly protected from harassment from bigger mechs, given who his carrier was, but he'd still lost his lunch often enough to take an implied threat to steal his energon seriously.

The feline's eyes were very knowing. He said, "You know, we do have enough to go around, and I was only teasing a little."

"... Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I've been there." Steeljaw smiled. "Got you to drink it, didn't I?"

He sighed. The gentle, friendly banter - and it was friendly - did nothing to take away the awful, awful _emptiness _in his spark. He'd been distracted for a moment, but the pain was back, a hundred times over.

Blaster said quietly, "You okay, Steelie?"

Surprised that Blaster was concerned about his own symbiont, Frenzy glanced over at the feline. Steeljaw favored Frenzy with a crooked smile. "Blaster knows I'm not, of course. This brings back some horrible memories of my own."

"Oh."

"Steeljaw lost his first master a long time ago." Blaster reached a hand around Frenzy to caress Steeljaw's head. Steeljaw leaned into that touch, eyes closing.

"Oh." He didn't want to hear about anyone else's losses. His own just hurt too much.

"And he shouldn't pick on you about being short on fuel." Blaster's arm bumped Frenzy's shoulders as he stroked his symbiont's ruff. It was the sort of casual touching that Frenzy had enjoyed between himself and his siblings and Soundwave and it made him flinch internally. He sat very still, trying not to show how much it bothered him.

"Remember how I found you?" Blaster asked Steeljaw, clearly for Frenzy's benefit.

Steeljaw groaned. "There wasn't any work for me on the colony world where my ... where they died. I didn't have any of my mods then," he wiggled his fingers, "So even though I have a university education as an architect, the only work I could find was as a, shall we say, enforcer. I refused to 'enforce' for the local criminal element and the good guys wouldn't hire me. I ended up scrounging for fuel in the local junk yards, finding energon in old equipment tanks and the like. Sometimes I had to steal it. I was about to offline from lack of maintenance and, well, sheer damn loneliness when an Autobot ship stopped for supplies."

That got a chuckle from Blaster. "Yeah. Imagine my shock when this dented, dirty symbiont limped up to the ship and asked if we'd fuel him up in exchange for guard duty. He was so beat down that all he asked for was a full tank and he'd keep the riff-raff off."

"I probably looked like I _was _the riff-raff. I expected they'd run me off like everyone else did. I'd been shot the day before, when I tried to drain some fuel from the tank of a broken drone, so I had this big plasma scar across my face plates and my shoulder joint was trashed. Figured it was worth asking, though." Steeljaw shrugged. "The worst they could do was kill me, and I was about to die from fuel deprivation anyway."

Blaster started stroking Steeljaw's neck again. "I'm not sure you _could _have kept the riff-raff off, the condition you were in."

"Oh, I think I'd have managed." Steeljaw grinned toothily.

"Anyway, Frenzy, I'm sure I don't have to tell you how carriers feel about symbionts - even those that aren't their own. Steelie, of course, wasn't looking for a new master ... but under that dirt I saw somebody I kinda wanted to get to know. Once I found out how he'd been living on his own, and that nobody had been willing to help him out, well, the rest is history."

The two exchanged a look over Frenzy's head.

Frenzy knew those looks, full of shared history and emotion and _love_. The bond between a symbiont and a carrier was like no other. It wasn't about passion, like the love between partners, and it wasn't like the love between parent and child. Symbionts chose who they bonded to, and it was a relationship born of respect and mutual compatibility. You relied upon each other; carriers provided safety and status, and symbionts supported them in a thousand ways. The bond was about being able to rely upon other people utterly; to trust them, to _love _them. In his case, he'd been bound to his siblings and Soundwave for thousands of years. He knew them better than he knew himself.

He would not cry in front of them. He would not show how much the reminder of what they had, and what he didn't have, hurt him. Didn't they know how insensitive it was to talk of this? He could imagine what it must have been like for Steeljaw.

He and Rumble had been just as desperate when Soundwave caught up to them. Soundwave had offered to bond with them not because he felt sorry for them, or because he felt altruistically compelled to do so. He had genuinely liked them, enough that he legally purchased them from the estate (an estate he'd been cheated of) and granted them their freedom specifically so that they could come to him of their free choice. This was not altruistic; cassettes _chose _who they bonded with, something absolutely core to the culture they had all been raised in. A bond could not be coerced, and a slave, by definition, was not free to chose his own destiny.

He'd spent what little money he had inherited from his bondmate's estate on their freedom _before _he found them, actually. They had been free mechs long before he found them, and they had never known it. They'd lived in hiding without needing to, because they had thought they were classed as escaped slaves.

Soundwave didn't care much for mechs other than his own symbionts, but he had made every effort to impress them with his fairness, and his ability to provide for them. Soundwave was like that. He didn't say much, but his actions spoke far more loudly than his words.

He still remembered the moment the bond had settled into place. He'd been born a spark twin. He knew what it was like to share threads of his thoughts and emotions with another. Yet when five other minds had touched theirs, it had been utter completion.

Soundwave had been dominant and assured in himself; Frenzy had easily accepted his leadership, and trusted instinctively in his love.

Ravage, by contrast, was snarky and sour, but with a grudging sense of fair play and a fierce protective streak. He had been a better judge of character than anyone else Frenzy had ever known.

The birds were full of joy and life. Both were curious, playful. Buzzsaw had been a sly practical joker, and Laserbeak had taught him to love flight by encouraging him to piggyback on her sensors. Laserbeak, the more open of the two, had often let him piggyback on her sensor input when she flew. He'd learned the joy of open space beneath his - her - wings, and the thrill of daredevil maneuvers as she dodged enemy fire or simply swooped and dove through natural obstacles. She had truly loved the freedom of flying.

Buzzsaw had been fiercely private, seldom sharing his innermost thoughts with anything but his twin. However, when he did open up, his devotion and loyalty to them had been unquestioning, and even when he rarely spoke his mind, his fondness for them all had come through across the bond with every emotion he felt. None of them had held his need for privacy against him. It was just who he was.

And then there had been Ratbat. Frenzy had never learned Ratbat's story. Ratbat didn't talk about it, and Soundwave wouldn't say. Ratbat had not been created a symbiont, though he'd willingly joined the bond. It was unusual for someone not sparked into their world to bond with a carrier; most outsiders didn't understand. It was a cultural thing, a programming thing, and even a hardware thing. Carriers and symbionts had their own world and few outsiders ever joined it. However, Ratbat had found his place with them.

The seven of them had been a team and a family, tied together in ways no outsider could ever understand.

When Steeljaw glanced up at Blaster, eyes narrowing, and Blaster quirked one optic ridge upwards, and then Steeljaw slid down to rest his head on his forelegs with a huffed sigh, Frenzy flinched, this time visibly. He drew his knees up to his chest and he closed his eyes and made _not crying _his goal. He saw, in those subtle exchanges, memories of everything he'd lost.

They probably meant to be kind. Instead, the more he sat with them, reminded of what he'd lost, the more it hurt. Soundwave was _dying, _he knew it in his spark ... he was going to be alone.

_Ravage. Buzzsaw. Laserbeak. Ratbat._

Rumble.

And Soundwave, the center of his world, the foundation, the rock, that anchored them all. Soundwave was dying. Soundwave was going to leave him utterly alone.

Steeljaw rose up, inched closer, and rested his chin on Frenzy's shoulder. He said quietly, "I'm here."

"He's going to die," Frenzy whispered.

And then, in sheer perverse denial of his words, Soundwave's _presence _in his spark flared. _:FRENZY!: _Soundwave shouted.

_:Boss, boss, boss, you're alive, you're talking, you ...!:_

:Get out!: Soundwave screamed, terror and pain and rage. _:Run, Frenzy, get out! They're hacking me!:_

:What?:

The bond flared as wide as Soundwave had ever allowed it, unregulated by any conscious control. Suddenly, he was aware of a mind that didn't belong, touching his through Soundwave's processor. _:Slaggit!: _The stranger snarled, impatient and frustrated. _:Stop fighting me, you idiot!:_

:Frennnzyyyy!: Soundwave screamed, _:Get out! Betrayed! Run!:_

The stranger snapped, _:I'm not trying to betray you, I'm trying to save your life!:_

:Get out!: Soundwave was screaming, _:Out, out, out!:_

Frenzy had never known Soundwave to come unglued like this. His words had the force of an order, one delivered with every ounce of authority that Soundwave had ever possessed. He was halfway to the door when a heavy weight pinned him down. Hot hair rushed over his neck as Steeljaw closed his teeth around Frenzy's shoulder.

"Woah!" Blaster was there a nanoclick later. "Where do you think you're going, little bot?"

"Let go of me!" He drove his elbow backwards, into a sensitive point between Steeljaw's neck plating, aiming for nerve wires The larger cassette let go with a muffled yelp, and Frenzy thrashed, trying to get free. He was at least Steeljaw's equal in a fight!

Steeljaw closed his forelegs around Frenzy, not in an attack but simple restraint. Then Blaster was kneeling beside them, and the big carrier mech pulled Frenzy free. He aimed a punch at Blaster's optics when Blaster picked him up and Steeljaw snarled in reflexive reaction to Blaster's alarm. Blaster, however, managed to control himself. He said firmly, "Frenzy, calm down."

"They're hacking him! Did you think I wouldn't know? Slag you all!"

_:Run!: _Soundwave screamed, _:Run, Frenzy, go! Get out!: _

"Shh." Blaster had him in an unbreakable grip, clutched to his chest. Without his weapons, he had no hope of getting free from Blaster. "Shh, little mech."

_:Damn them!: _Soundwave clearly knew that Frenzy was being restrained. _:Fight! Fight, Frenzy! Get free! Fight, fight!:_

Soundwave's fury threatened to overwhelm him.

"Slag you!" He wailed. "Slag you all, this is all your fault. You people planned this. You _did _this to him! Slag you! Slag you!"

Blaster settled back onto the couch. Steeljaw circled them, optics narrowed, fans running hard. Frenzy watched him warily over the immovable barricade of Blaster's arm, reminded so painfully of Ravage. Ravage had been just as protective of Soundwave. Any of them would have died for Soundwave, but Ravage was especially fierce in his defense.

"Steeljaw, settle down." Blaster patted the couch beside him, still holding Frenzy pinned to his chest with one hand. "C'mere."

The cassette hopped up. Frenzy glared at him, "Frag you all!"

_:Get out!: _Soundwave screamed, but Frenzy wasn't sure if that was aimed at the alien presence in his mind or an order to Frenzy to escape. Maybe both. He wasn't sure if he wanted to run or to find Soundwave and tear whoever was hurting him to pieces. He might die trying, but life without Soundwave wasn't worth living - and surely they would kill him after they stripped his mind. Or worse, they could reformat him, and replace his damaged processor with a new one. Frenzy would then be quantum bound to a new sparkling with Soundwave's spark and with the mind of a child.

That was a terrible, terrible thought.

Blaster fell silent for a moment, then his hold on Frenzy tightened. "Wheeljack says that Ratchet's hacked him."

"No shit," Frenzy ground out. "You think I can't feel that? I thought I could trust ... slaggit, I was so stupid!"

"Shh, kiddo." Steeljaw rested his chin on Frenzy's shoulder. "Shh."

"Don't touch me!"

_:They're going to hurt you! Run!: _The order was so strong from Soundwave that Frenzy tried to break free. He succeeded only in stressing his joints and nearly stripping some gears as he fought against Blaster, who was far stronger than he was.

"Woah!" Blaster changed his grip, allowing Frenzy to flail about. "Frenzy, calm down!"

"They're killing him!"

_:**FRENZY!: **_Soundwave's mental scream this time was a desperate appeal for help. He was terrified beyond all rational measure, begging his own symbiont to rescue him.

_:Damnit!: _The alien mind snarled. _:Soundwave, you glitch, stop fighting me! It's _me!_:_

The stranger dropped quite a few firewalls with those words, somewhat of a risky move with any terrified patient, and with Soundwave in particular. Under other circumstances, Soundwave could have obliterated his mind in a nanoclick of time with that little protection. However, Soundwave was not really coherent; Frenzy was as panicked by the fact that Soundwave was reacting with pure emotion and little analysis as he was by the attack. Something was very badly wrong. The awful silence earlier had been better than this unreasoning terror.

Frenzy was swept along for the ride as Soundwave tried to attack the stranger with a rather ineffective and badly executed assault. Frenzy, frustrated and terrified, screamed obscenities at the stranger in every language he knew.

And then ... something strange happened. The stranger's firewalls kept coming down, voluntarily. Soundwave could see sense more and more of the stranger. Frenzy could feel him too, and the other mech's emotions were unexpected. Amid the frustration and aggressiveness was a fierce desire to help, and a terrible worry not just for Soundwave but for Frenzy too.

It was that concern for _Frenzy _that convinced Soundwave to trust the stranger, at least a little. He stopped fighting and asked cautiously, _:Who?:_

:This is Ratchet, you idiot. I'm right next to you but your sensors are all kaput at the moment.: Ratchet sounded disgruntled , but reassuringly confident. _:And Frenzy, I know you can hear me. I took his firewalls down hoping you'd talk some sense into him. So start talking.:_

He froze. He didn't know what to say.

Soundwave spoke first, thoughts thick with pain and confusion. _:Frenzy?:_

:Here, boss. Glad you can understand me.:

:Something is wrong.:

:No slag,: that was the medic. _:Soundwave, you had a cascade failure. Damn near offlined on us. I'm rebuilding your code from the inside. I need you to work with me and _not _fight.:_

:... Backup?: Soundwave sounded confused.  
_  
:Presumably you have one on the Nemesis,: _Ratchet snapped. _:I can't exactly see Megatron handing it over.:_

:... Ask?: Soundwave sounded pitifully like a sparkling. Frenzy winced at the tone. It was almost innocent in its hope. _:... Megatron ... does care. About me.:_

:Boss,: Frenzy said, _:Megatron's not going to hand over your backup code to the Autobots. It's got way too much classified slag mixed in it.:_

:Oh.: Soundwave fell silent. Unspoken was the fact that Ratchet was getting a processor full of Decepticon secrets as he worked.

_:Soundwave, buddy, stay with me here.: _Ratchet spoke up. _:I know you're probably ready for some recharge here, but I need you to keep processing data so I can find the errors and trace down the bad code. This is the worst mess I've ever tried to fix the hard way.:_

:What ... happened?:

:Hardware problem. Your auto-repair nanytes didn't put something back together right. It caused a fault that introduced errors into your code. Your operating system was already a mess, and you crashed hard:

Soundwave seemed to think this over. He simply felt exhausted to Frenzy, now, as if the terror had abruptly burnt out of him.

_:Hey. Don't give up, buddy. I can fix your operating system. It's just going to take me some time.: _Ratchet sounded genuinely concerned.  
_  
:Why?: _Soundwave asked the question that Frenzy had also been wondering. He seemed a bit lost as he clarified, _:Why do you care?:_

:Because I do,: Ratchet answered simply. Accompanied with that was a sense of who the mech was; his strength, his compassion, his assertiveness, and a keen sense of morality that went through to the very core of his spark. He was a mech who could make very hard life or death decisions without hesitation, based purely on numbers and practical analysis of a situations ... and then would mourn later. He drank too much, yelled too much, and often expected the worst from his peers - but he was strong, for all of that.

Frenzy felt Soundwave reacted to the mix of compassion and honor and strength with sudden trust. Soundwave relaxed utterly, letting down emotional walls. He stated, _:You care.:_

:I do.: Ratchet seemed distracted, suddenly. _:You keep getting new errors, Soundwave ... I'm trying to sort this out. I thought we had a software patch in place before we brought you online ...:_

:SomethkkDAuuuhthtk?:

The connection dissolved into static. Frenzy groaned aloud. Something was wrong. Ratchet would fix it, he assumed. Ratchet had fixed him once. He could do it again.

And then, abruptly, there was nothing but darkness and oblivion where Soundwave's spark had been.

He screamed in horror.

A body pressed against him. He was sandwiched against Blaster's chest as he screamed and screamed. Soundwave was _gone_. The other mech pressed against him, and Blaster shifted one arm so he was holding both of them.

... A flicker.

... A flicker of a bond. There. Not gone. Faint, but there. Back.

He realized he was still screaming, and stopped, and burst into sobbing wails. "I just want him to be better!" he wailed into Blaster's chest.

Blaster was murmuring something and rocking back and forth, stroking his back. He realized he wasn't the only one crying when he heard soft keening cries next to him. Voice strained with emotion he demanded of Steeljaw, "Why the slag are _you _crying?"

Steeljaw shook his head, unable to speak aloud.

Blaster said quietly, "He says to tell you that he's remembering losing his first master. This is bringing a lot back for him. He says he's sorry."

Oh, slag. He'd forgotten what Blaster had told him of Steeljaw's history. "Don't ... don't be sorry." Impulsively, he twisted around and put his arms around Steeljaw's neck. Here was somebody who really, really understood his fear. He clung to him and Steeljaw leaned harder against him. Frenzy whispered, "He's still alive. He crashed again. I thought he was gone. I think Ratchet brought him back, somehow."

"Yeah, I asked Wheeljack what happened. He said that they're hunting down another hardware glitch." Blaster's hand rubbed his back. "You okay now, kiddo? You were living up to your name for a bit, there."

"Sorry." It felt absurdly good to be squished between the two of them, and he felt guilty for taking comfort from an Autobot. They'd _done _this to Soundwave.

Steeljaw nuzzled his neck. In a voice made harsh by his own cries he murmured, "Ratchet will save him. You watch."

"Yeah. I'm just so alone."

"I know," Steeljaw said, simply. He met the other symbiont's blue-eyed gaze for a moment in a moment of pure, shared understanding. Steeljaw raised an articulated paw up and stroked his jaw. "I know, Frenzy."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Author's Notes: "M" Rated chapter is rated "M." This is not the most NSFW scene I've ever written, but it's definitely in my top four or five. I still haven't decided if that's a good thing or not, LOL.

ETA: Uploaded only part of the chapter a few hours earlier. This may make more sense.

* * *

Frenzy woke very late that evening, when Ratchet pinged him from the med bay. He sat up, a bit confused at first, because in the darkened room Steeljaw had seemed superficially like Ravage, and Blaster like Soundwave. He oriented himself, and realized that he'd slipped into recharge while still in Blaster's arms.

Blaster was out cold, in a deep recharge cycle. Steeljaw's weight was across his legs. At some point, the other symbionts had returned. They were piled up on the couch beside Blaster in a tangle of warm bodies. He hadn't heard them enter, which frightened him. He was normally more wary than that.

He answered Ratchet after staring at the others for a second. _:Yeah?:_

:I need to talk to you.: Ratchet sounded very, very tired. _:Steelie says he'll come with you. Is that okay?:_

Alarm thrilled through him, even as he agreed to Ratchet's suggestion. Something was wrong. He could tell it from Ratchet's tone. Steeljaw moved as he tensed, the first sign that the other mech was awake. The other symbiont whispered, "Go ahead and get up. You won't wake Blaster. He knows I'm awake and I'm keeping watch. "

He untangled himself from Steeljaw and Blaster's arms. Steeljaw hopped down after him, and it seemed natural, somehow, to rest a hand on Steeljaw's powerful shoulder and briefly slide a finger through a crack in his armor and rub his neck cables. He'd have done the same with Ravage, if they were both stressed and unhappy.

Steeljaw leaned into the touch a bit more than Ravage would have. "Mm. Under other circumstances, I'd melt into a puddle of goo at your feet, but Ratchet doesn't sound really happy. Let's go."

He jerked his hand back, realizing he'd been touching the Autobot in ways that could be construed as intimate - or threatening. His fingers had been under Steeljaw's armor, close to critical systems. For that matter, Steeljaw could have clamped his armor tight and taken off Frenzy's fingers. He was being careless all around. Soundwave would have been angry had he realized how trusting he was being.

He'd fallen into deep recharge in the arms of an Autobot. He must be losing his mind.

"Sorry. Just ..." he trailed off, unable to articulate how he felt.

The mech nudged him in the arm with his nose. "It's okay, kiddo. C'mon."

He walked a little closer to Steeljaw than was socially acceptable with a stranger, but Steeljaw felt a lot like one of his own siblings at the moment. Someone he could trust, someone he _liked_. He was just so slagging lonely, and the other mech was there, and clearly willing to be friends. The whole thing with them being enemies was weird ... except that Frenzy wasn't a con anymore. Soundwave had said they were neutrals now. Yet he assumed most of the Autobots would still see him as the enemy, as a Decepticon.

Steeljaw led the way into Ratchet's office. Ratchet was seated at his desk, and the mech looked as exhausted as he'd sounded. He had smears of energon up his arms, and a streak on his face, and his shoulders were slumped.

"Frenzy, have a seat," he said, straightening up and indicating a human chair he'd set on his desk.

Frenzy scrambled up onto the desk and onto the chair, as nervous as he'd ever been in his life. Steeljaw sat next to him on the desk, only inches away. Ratchet asked Steeljaw softly, "You okay, Steelie?"

"Yeah." Steeljaw glanced at Frenzy. "Frenzy had a pretty rough time of it."

"I'm okay!" he denied, not wanting anyone else to know that he'd wailed like a sparkling. He bit back an impulsive urge to point out Steeljaw had been crying too.

Steeljaw lifted a paw up, transformed it into a hand, and rested it on Frenzy's wrist. He met Frenzy's gaze for a long moment, then comm'd him and said, _:You're not alone, kiddo.:_

He was very glad he hadn't snarled at Steeljaw over the 'rough time' comment. He gave Steeljaw a somewhat shaky smile, then turned back to Ratchet. "So how bad is it?"

The medic looked away briefly, the first time Ratchet had ever seemed evasive to Frenzy. He said, finally, "Do you remember when I told you that you might have to make some decisions for Soundwave?"

Frenzy blinked, then nodded. He was, legally, Soundwave's next of kin. He wished desperately that he could share that responsibility with his siblings. He protested, "But he can talk!"

"No." Ratchet put a stylus down on the table with a click. "Unfortunately, he can't. We've traced down the faults. All of them. If I bring him back online, we risk a crash so severe I won't be able to bring him back. I'm pretty sure you know how close we can to losing him last night."

"I thought he'd died."

"So did I, at one point. However, Frenzy ... I need to ask you something very hard, and that is to think of what Soundwave would want."

"You can fix him, right?"

"No." Ratchet's gaze was distant, somewhere over the top of Frenzy's head. "No. We have three options, Frenzy. None of them involve a _repair_. You know Soundwave better than anyone else alive. I could feel, last night, how much he loved you, and how much you love him, and the trust between you two. I need you to make some decisions for him out of love for him, okay?"

Frenzy shrank down in his chair. "I'm just a symbiont. I don't ... I can't ..."

"Yes." Ratchet said firmly, "You can."

"Wh... what's wrong?"

Ratchet turned his datapad around to show Frenzy a diagram. "I know you understand the basics of how our auditory systems work, but humor me with a quick refresher. This," he tapped a circuit, "connects to his audio receivers. That transmits data to this node, which functions as a switch. That node is just smart enough to filter language from background noise. Language gets routed to the language processing centers. Background noise gets sent to another area for further processing, where your mind figures out if it was, say, a gunshot or a slamming door you just heard."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Well," Ratchet tapped the connection between the node and the language processor, "As you know, the many, many circuits _here _were damaged. Water got in, went through his comm circuits and his mods for telepathy, and then saturated this area." He set the stylus down again. "I cleaned everything out to the best of my ability, but it was _water, _Frenzy, and some of the metals used in our circuits oxidize on contact with water. That makes contaminants. Those contaminants interfered with the attempt by his autorepair to reconnect the node to his language centers."

"Can you ... clean it again?"

Ratchet shook his head. "The damage is too extensive, this time. If we bring him online, he will suffer seizure after seizure, and then die, very quickly. The next one could kill him."

"So ... what do we need to do?"

"There's three options. You need to think of what Soundwave would want." Ratchet reached a hand out and rested it on Frenzy's shoulder. "Whatever you decide is right, Frenzy. There's no wrong decisions here. You _know _him. You can do this."

"What ... what are the options?"

"Frenzy, the first option is to replace his neural hardware entirely. We can't replace the damaged parts, as we don't have the nanoscale surgical equipment to make the connections, but we do have some complete processors in stock."

"No!" He wailed, instinctive, impulsive, angry. "No, that would destroy who he is!"

"I know," Ratchet said, simply. "And you would be bound to a sparkling."

"No," he murmured, shaking his head. He didn't think he could deal with that. Soundwave was his master. He couldn't imagine a world where some person, some _child_, with Soundwave's personality, was tied to him ... would he be responsible for raising the kid? Would he then, someday, need to give up the authority of a parent and become, again, a symbiont? Or would he remain a parent-figure for their lifetime, always yearning for something that he could never have again? He _liked _being Soundwave's symbiont.

Ratchet sighed. "Frenzy, because you are tied to Soundwave, you must consider your own feelings as part of the bigger picture. If you could not handle the scenario of a replacement processor, it would affect the sparkling's development. You could break the bond later, but I do not know what that sort of early emotional trauma would do to a child. He would very likely see it as a rejection ... and if you could not accept the sparkling and _kept _the bond, he would sense that rejection as well."

Frenzy flinched. He couldn't imagine rejecting Soundwave, any version of Soundwave.

"You could also chose to break the bond now," Ratchet said, quietly. "He's in extremely deep stasis lock. There is no power to his higher neural circuits. He would never know."

"_I'd _know." Frenzy started to lunge to his feet, then slumped back. "No. _No_. **_No_**!"

"What are the other options?" Steeljaw asked. He pressed himself up against Frenzy, his head resting against Frenzy's chest, and Frenzy flung his arms around Steeljaw's thick neck and buried his face against Steeljaw's armor. Steeljaw even _smelled _like one of his lost siblings.

Frenzy wished Ravage were here. Ravage, wisest of them, would know what to do.

"Not much better, I'm afraid." Ratchet ran a hand over his face. "Frenzy, look at me."

Frenzy shook his head, refusing to meet Ratchet's gaze. "I can't do this."

"You can." Ratchet ran a hand over Frenzy's back. "You are strong, and you love him. You can find the strength right now to think of him, and to chose what he would want. It's terrible, but you _know _him."

Frenzy snapped, "He wouldn't want _any _of this. He'd want to be himself."

The medic sighed. "I know. I wish I could fix him. But I don't have the equipment. Frankly, nobody does. Not even on Cybertron. Not anymore. It's hard, isn't it - knowing that once upon a time we could have done so much more for him? I hate this war, and ..." he fell silent.

"Yeah, well, it takes two sides to hold a war," Frenzy snapped at him.

Ratchet's hand on Frenzy's back stilled for a moment. "... And two sides to end it. - Frenzy, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I do care about him, and about you, and I want to help. However, what I can do is limited, and I'm sorry for bringing up _why_."

"What are the other options?" He said, bitterness rising in his spark. If not for the war, Soundwave would be fine. There would be no need for advanced medical procedures.

"The second option would be to remove the connection between the node," he tapped the circuits that functioned as a data switch, "and his language processor entirely. I don't believe the water damage extends beyond this area. He clearly retains most of his faculties and his personality. He will still be Soundwave, but he will never be able to speak or understand spoken language again."

"Couldn't you make a software patch of some kind? Route the data into his language centers another way?" Frenzy shook his head.

"No." Ratchet shook his head. "Smokescreen and I actually tried to do that last night, since we we were messing around with his code anyway. It's a bandwidth issue. It bogs the internal connections down and causes his entire language center to crash when we try to do that. I'm not sure there's a workaround that wouldn't cause that problem."

"Slag."

"Frenzy, he has other issues. A lot of them." Ratchet didn't stop stroking Frenzy's back. "He may never get his sense of balance back, so he may never be able to walk. There are things we can do to help him, but there's variable success. He cannot read or write. He may never get that back either. He has no comm, no telepathy, no way to communicate. He won't be able to talk to you over the bond when we're done, as that goes through the auditory circuits so that you can 'hear' your bondmate's thoughts as voices in your head. I'm honestly very skeptical that he _will _get much function back now that I've had a good hard look at all the damage and taken some time to thoroughly map it out. We can make him live ... but will he want to live that way? He will be forever dependent on others. You know him. Would he want to live like that - that is an honest question. There are some mechs who will chose life at all costs. And some who would prefer to go to the well and rest when it becomes this bad."

"You're asking me to decide if he should live as a slagged-up cripple or if he should die?" He felt as if he was falling. How could he _make _a decision like this?

"I'd want to be a sparkling again," Ratchet murmured.

"No!" He shook his head savagely. "He'd hate that. He hated being a child. Nobody took him seriously. B-besides, what k-kind of processor do you have?"

"We have some salvage processors in stock." Ratchet pressed his lipplates together for a moment. "They've been reconditioned and reformatted. Wheeljack does that work. He's good at it."

"From the dead."

"From the dead," Ratchet confirmed.

"_No_."

Ratchet sighed. "Frenzy, I know this is hard. I want you to think about Soundwave, though. No answer is wrong, but I need to know what to do. Right now, he's not really stable. If we don't do something soon the decision will be out of our hands."

"I can't ..." _I can't bear to be without him. _He couldn't finish that thought. It was too shameful. He kinda suspected that the only reason that Soundwave was alive was for him. Soundwave knew just how badly it would hurt Frenzy if he died, and so he had not followed the others. Was it selfish, though, to not let him go? He couldn't be happy as he was. Frenzy knew just how scared, and miserable, and frustrated Soundwave was because he could sense it over the bond.

They were quite a pair. Neither willing to go first, Frenzy thought with black amusement, because it would leave the other behind, and all alone.

"You can make this decision, Frenzy. It's best if you do it."

Frenzy couldn't contemplate Soundwave as a child.

Steeljaw asked Ratchet, "Sir ... if you were in his shoes, what would you do?"

The hand on Frenzy's back stilled for a moment. Ratchet blew out a sharp sigh. "I don't know Soundwave, Steeljaw. I don't know what I'd do."

"What if it were Optimus, or Ironhide, or Ratchet. One of you friends? What then? Generally speaking?" Steeljaw demanded. Frenzy could have hugged him (again) for that. He wanted some guidance, some idea of what to _do_.

Ratchet seemed to flinch, then he shook his head. "It truly depends. I can't say, and I wouldn't want to speculate. I have already recorded the wishes of most of the mechs on the Arc so that I won't _have _to make this kind of a call for them. However, Frenzy, I'm sure that Soundwave would want you to make this decision rather than us Autobots. He was pretty clear that he doesn't trust us."

"I think he trusts you," Frenzy said, looking up to meet Ratchet's gaze. He wanted Ratchet to take responsibility here, and to make this hard choice. He knew the mech was capable of it. Frenzy didn't think he had it in him to separate himself from his grief and make the right call.

"Hrmm. I suppose he does, but I still do not know him the way you do."

"I can't ... I can't _do _this." He couldn't imagine a world without Soundwave in it. Even damaged, broken, he wanted his master with a fierce longing. Soundwave was the center of his world. Without Soundwave, he was just a tiny punk with a bad attitude, all alone in the world. "How ... how would you let him go?"

"We'd bring him back online. He's able to talk now. I suspect a terminal crash would occur within only seconds, but you might be able to say goodbye. It would be Primus's will as to when he went. Once he crashed again, I highly doubt I could bring him back again. The last crash did some additional hardware damage."

"Oh." He didn't want to say goodbye. A few seconds was not enough time. A _lifetime _wasn't enough time. And what if they brought him online and he said he wanted to live at all costs ... and then died? What if Frenzy found out he'd made the wrong choice?

Ratchet's thumb was rubbing his back plating in small, comforting circles. "Do you want to take a few minutes to think about it?"

He couldn't _imagine _a world without Soundwave in it.

Soundwave had been scared and angry and confused for the last two days. He wondered if ...

He would be all alone. He could follow Soundwave to the well, but ... that was terrifying in its own right. And what if he got there and found out he'd made the wrong choice? _You killed me! _He couldn't bear to hear that accusation from his master. It would be the worst kind of betrayal.

On the other hand, what if Soundwave really wanted to go, and was only sticking around for Frenzy? Perhaps it would be a kindness to let him go to the well, where the others were waiting. Frenzy could follow. Would follow.

But what if Soundwave wanted to live?

What if Ratchet were wrong, and Soundwave wasn't as badly damaged as Ratchet claimed?

_Make a decision out of love for him, _Ratchet had said.

Frenzy ... didn't want to be alone. And he didn't want to face an accusation of murder from Soundwave. And he didn't want to believe it was as bad as Ratchet said. Soundwave couldn't be effectively deaf to language, mute, unable to walk, unable to read or write, locked inside his own head. He drew his legs in and wrapped his arms around them and buried his face against his knees. He started to cry again, but through choked sobs he said, "Do it ... do what you have to, but I think he'd want to live."

He was desperately afraid he was wrong. He knew _he _wouldn't want to live the way that Ratchet was describing. He thought he'd just done a very selfish thing. He felt dirty and tainted and miserable.

Ratchet, however, seemed relieved. He nodded slowly. "Very well. I'll start the procedure in a few minutes."

"How long will it take?"

"Hours. It's not just the hardware, but if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. I will go through and make sure his operating system is reconfigured and Wheeljack had some suggestions for his visor, to help with his balance ... we're going to be thorough, Frenzy, to give him the best chance possible for the best recovery of some of his functions. However, this could still go badly. We're working with delicate circuits, without the proper equipment. I am _not _a circuit surgeon by training. I will do the best I can, but ... if it does go badly, for what it's worth, you won't be alone."

Steeljaw said coolly, "Ratchet, _Sir, _you have _no idea_ how alone he is, or would be."

"I know it's hard to lose a bondmate ..." Ratchet gave Steeljaw a startled look.

"No. You don't know how hard it is, and he's lost five." Steeljaw rose. "I'll stay with him, sir."

"I was going to have Bluestreak sit with him today." Ratchet seemed dismayed by that idea. "You've got a shift coming up."

"Blaster's already gotten me excused. Prowl agreed that I'm a good choice, and that we can postpone my punishment detail until later."

"I want to stay with Steeljaw." Frenzy stood up too. "Please, Ratchet ... he _does _understand. And you don't. And Bluestreak ... I don't even _know _Bluestreak. At least Steeljaw gets it."

The CMO seemed to hesitate for a moment, then shook his head. "Go. Frenzy, just ... understand that you will have a place here, with or without Soundwave. Okay? And, also, it may tomorrow before I'm able to return to my quarters. He'll need monitoring after the procedure, which means I might need to stay here all night. I ..."

"... I'll stay with him in your quarters, if it's okay, sir," Steeljaw said. "I'm willing to bet he'd find my brothers pretty overwhelming en mass right now. Not all of us are exactly social whizzes, either - Eject could offend Primus himself."

Ratchet rolled his optics. "He'd probably find the lot of you overwhelming at any time."

"True," Steeljaw said, with a smile but no laugh. "Come, Frenzy. Ratchet needs to get to work." 

* * *

Ratchet's quarters were echoingly empty when they stepped through the door. Steeljaw turned to him, once the door had slid shut, and said, "Frenzy, for what it's worth, I think you made the right choice."

"I don't know," Frenzy whispered. "I don't know if I did. I wish we could wake him up and ask him."

He wished he could hear Soundwave's voice one last time. But if they'd tried, he might have died.

"Do you think he'd want you to be miserable and alone? Do you think he'd be happy in the Well, knowing you were all by yourself? Do you think he'd want you to follow him, when you're healthy and young and have a whole life ahead of you?" Steeljaw rested his head against Frenzy's chest. Frenzy was starting to recognize that this was Steeljaw's version of a hug. Steeljaw was probably Frenzy's exact opposite in the touchy-feely department. Frenzy might have been a lot more annoyed by all the touching if Steeljaw didn't remind him so much of his lost siblings.

"He'd want to stay, for you, if nothing else. Carriers are like that. Mine ... my first ... his last words to me were an _apology _that he couldn't stay, and he was in so very much pain. Anyone else would have been screaming for release. I was glad when he passed, for him, though it left me alone."

"I ... I don't know." Frenzy hunched his shoulders. That hadn't been what he'd been thinking when he'd said _save him_.

"I think he'd want to stay for _you_. You made the right choice, kiddo." Steeljaw hopped up onto the couch, then transformed one forepaw into a hand and patted the cushion. "Get up here."

He hitched himself up. Steeljaw reached out, snagged him around the waist with both hands, and pulled him across the cushions. The larger cassette wrapped both arms around Frenzy, eliciting a startled gasp from him.

"Shh. Look, I'm sorry about Ratchet doing what he did in there. He didn't say anything to me or Blaster about what he was gonna ask. I figured he needed some technical info or personal history or something. It wasn't fair of him to ask that of you."

"I am his next of kin," he murmured, though it had been an overwhelming question.

"You're more than that. You are his bonded symbiont, and Ratchet doesn't get it. Oh, he understands the concept in technical terms." Steeljaw held him tightly, if a bit awkwardly. His frame type made hugging a little bit of a technical challenge. "We've certainly given him an education on how things work, but he _can't _get it, and I'm not even sure he entirely approves of carriers."

"Approves?"

"You ever hear Prime talk about 'freedom being the right of all sentient beings'?" Steeljaw's sigh shook his entire frame. "Ratchet believes that just as strongly as Optimus."

"But I am free." He'd been a slave - an 'indentured servant' if one wanted to be technical about it, but for practical purposes, given the way the servitude had turned out, it was the same. He and his brother had been unable to find a carrier and had been forced to sign their freedom away to survive. He knew the difference.

"He doesn't see it that way. He sees it as one step above slavery."

"Oh, believe me," he growled, bitter memories of forced servitude, indignities and deprivation surfacing, "There's a _huge _difference."

"Heh. I'll bet." Steeljaw nuzzled him gently before saying, "I'll have Blaster talk to Ratchet - again - about symbionts. You did good in there, though. I think I would have come unglued if someone asked me to make that sort of decision for Blaster. I don't think I'd have it in me. I'm too close to him, too inextricably tied. I couldn't make a fair decision."

"Yeah." Steeljaw's muzzle was buried in the crook of his neck, and he was venting warm air against his plating. Frenzy idly traced a finger over the other's Autobot sigil. It was bright and shiny and looked like it had been freshly painted, but then, Steeljaw was pretty well maintained from head to toe. Frenzy hadn't had a new paint job in years before the Autobots had repainted him yesterday. Soundwave polished them all regularly, but they'd been short on paint. His own plating gleamed now, courtesy of Autobot resources.

He would have been strutting a bit with the pleased knowledge that he looked great under other circumstances. Rumble would have teased him mercilessly about the new paint, and he would have given anything to be teased by his twin. The shiny paint on his plating was a reminder, like a million other things, of the family he'd lost.

He was just so _lonely_. His head was silent, without even a background murmur. He'd never hear his siblings or Soundwave again. The loss was immense; he missed the casual chatter from his siblings and Soundwave's occasional laconic comment or pointed advice. He missed the background sense of their emotions, touching his spark across the bond.

Steeljaw's hand was resting on his hip, stubby fingers relaxed. That touch was innocent, just typical symbiont behavior. They weren't programmed to have much need for personal space. Steeljaw wasn't doing anything but giving what comfort he could by simply holding Frenzy. There was no attempt to molest, or seduce, and yet, suddenly, Frenzy couldn't take his attention from that warm hand.

He was just so damn lonely.

Soundwave had said not to trust them, and had reminded Frenzy that they were the enemy.

None of this was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be the one to make life-altering decisions for his master. His master was supposed to be wise, invulnerable, and unbeatable.

Soundwave had said _don't trust them, _and Frenzy had done just that: trust. He'd defied Soundwave. He'd had no choice, but Soundwave's command had been clear. He had trusted Ratchet's information, and his skill in the operating room. Now it occurred to him to wonder, what if Ratchet had been lying? What if this was simply a ploy to eliminate a perceived threat? Soundwave was Ratchet's enemy.

That was, he told himself, stupid. Logically, if Ratchet wanted to screw Soundwave up even more, he didn't need to ask for Frenzy's permission to do it! That Ratchet was asking for Frenzy's input, and treating him with more respect than he'd ever gotten before in his life from mechs other than his bondmates, said a great deal about his intentions. Even without the mind to mind contact last night, he would have concluded that Ratchet meant well.

Still, guilt gnawed at him. _I don't want to be alone! _he wailed into the silence in his head. Six other minds should have answered with comfort and reassurance. _I can't be alone. I can't. I chose right. I know I did. I know I did!_

He had so desperately not wanted to be alone. He couldn't lie to himself. His need for Soundwave had affected his choice.

Steeljaw's hand moved, stroking a small circle. It left an unexpected trail of heat behind it.

Soundwave had a few firm orders. One of them was, _Don't interface._

His master had always said that, someday, they would meet someone special. He'd been equally firm, almost paranoid, in his absolute rejection of any possible mates. Though Rumble had sometimes argued about it, Frenzy had never really minded. There _weren't _any good prospects on the Nemesis. Most of the mechs were much larger than he was, and bad tempered to boot. What was he supposed to do, have a foursome with Reflector? Accept Swindle's occasional smarmy offer of energon in trade for berth time? Strap on a dildo the size of his leg and frag Starscream?

The other cassette's hand slid higher, resting on the small of his back. It was simply a comforting touch, nothing more. However, he was so very lonely.

And so very guilty.

And so very angry.

And miserably unhappy.

And Steeljaw was kind, friendly, clean, honorable, attractive, and available.

Defiance suddenly sparked. Soundwave was supposed to _be _there for him, and he wasn't. Frenzy was entirely alone, and he knew he would _never _hear Soundwave's sage, blunt advice again. Never again would Soundwave tell him another mech wasn't worthy of him, or that flirting with the other troops was inviting trouble. Never again would Soundwave be able to tell him what to do at _all_. He'd be responsible for his master, in fact, and that was a huge, yawning pit of terror right there.

Steeljaw vented warm air across Frenzy's back plating as he sighed. "Kiddo, it's weird. We were enemies, three days ago. I wish ... I wish we could have met as friends under other circumstances."

He traced Steeljaw's sigil, fingers sliding over the smooth metal. The paint was so very glossy, and the metal beneath it warm with life. Steeljaw moved away, gently, and Frenzy froze. "Sorry," he murmured.

Steeljaw huffed a sigh. "Don't be. Kiddo, you know that you're the first mech I've met in a long time who looks me in the optics and doesn't see an animal?"

He grimaced. "Ravage used to bitch about the same thing."

"Ravage talked ...? Don't answer that question, it was stupid."

"Only to us, so, no, that was not a stupid question. I only heard him speak aloud a few times." He met Steeljaw's expression. "He didn't have hands, you know."

Steeljaw glanced down at the hand he had resting on Frenzy's arm. He grimaced. "I wish I had more mobility in my shoulders, but the sacrifice in strength would be too great. Wheeljack says I'd likely blow my shoulder joints out on high speed turns, when I was running, if I had more lateral play in them. He's come up with a few suggestions, but ..." Steeljaw shook his head. "Most would mean some massive mods that we don't have the resources for right now. They'd basically have to give me a whole new frame type. And I am functional like this. I can handle tools, use a stylus, that sort of thing."

"I can see that." He smiled in fond memory. "Ravage just got us to do all the work for him."

Steeljaw snorted. "I've never been very good at depending on others."

"Funny thing for a symbiont to say." He wanted to touch that shiny sigil again. It fascinated him, though he couldn't say why.

"Meh. Blaster says I'd make a better carrier than a symbiont. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love Blaster, but we've butted heads more times than I can count." Steeljaw grinned. "One of many of my flaws."

"Soundwave would have my aft if I argued with him." He didn't have to imagine Soundwave's reaction, because early in their relationship they had 'butted heads' a few times, as Steeljaw put it. Soundwave had decisively won, and his ire was something Frenzy never wanted to experience again. It took a lot to piss Soundwave off, but defiance from his symbionts was definitely on the short list of things that would do it.

Soundwave had a long, long fuse attached to a thunderous temper.

"Eh, Blaster's pretty laid back, really. It's possible to get him riled up, but it takes a good reason." Steeljaws stretched his back legs out across the couch. "Every bonded team has a different set of dynamics, I suppose. I get the feeling that Soundwave is fairly authoritarian."

"He's strict, but he's fair." Frenzy would miss those calm, firm, clear orders. "I was a slave, y'know. I've dealt with strict and _unfair_ before."

"I bet."

That sigil on Steeljaw's side drew his attention again. He touched it without thinking, drawing his fingers over the smooth, temptingly shiny paint. Steeljaw stiffened for a second, but didn't stop him this time. Frenzy pulled his hand away, however, not wanting Steeljaw to push him away out of irritation. Frenzy was suddenly struck by the strangeness of this situation. "You know, we were enemies until a few days ago."

"Yeah." Steeljaw sighed. "I should hate you, for everything you've done. I _know _you've killed Autobots yourself, personally."

He had. He was proud of his hit count. "Seventeen." A bit of a brag, but he couldn't help seeing what Steeljaw's reaction would be.

"I try not to count the Decepticons I've slagged." Steeljaw's fingers traced up Frenzy's back. "I can't help thinking some of them might be like you."

"Hnh?" He didn't quite understand.

"Friends I haven't met yet." Steeljaw shook his head against Frenzy's shoulder. "I _hate _this war. Eject might be more vocal about it, and, um, a bit more optimistic about good ways to end it, but I hate it. Decepticons, Autobots - we all come from Primus, we are the same people, and we are killing each other."

"I'm sorry." He wondered if his brief moment of boasting had offended the other mech. He was so used to Decepticon culture, where killing enemies was a good thing that you bragged about. Steeljaw's way of thinking was alien. Soundwave had taught him to not care about anyone outside the bond, to not get attached to outsiders, and to value his bondmates more highly than anyone else. The team came first. The rest of the world, as Rumble would have put it, could get slagged.

Steeljaw felt so warm against him, so real, and so appealing. Steeljaw understood Frenzy's pain. He really, and truly, understood.

He was so lonely.

Steeljaw was right. They should have met as friends, not enemies.

He had never made out with anyone before, and particularly not someone he barely knew. It was probably wildly inappropriate. He halfway expected to be dumped onto the floor in shock and disgust, but he suddenly didn't care about what was 'appropriate' or what his master would think. Honestly, Soundwave probably would never know. Frenzy couldn't even confess his misdeeds to his master if he wanted to, at least without resorting to charades or drawing pictures.

Rumble was always the better one at drawing dirty pictures.

He resolved not to think about Rumble.

Rumble would have been _vastly _amused by the problem of 'fessing up about 'facing to Soundwave. He probably would have tattled on Frenzy, just for the pure joy of rendering those naughty pictures. He would have animated them, and added sound effects, just for giggles.

He was _not _going to think about Rumble right now. Instead of thinking about Rumble (though he could almost hear Rumble cat-calling and egging him on) he caught Steeljaw's chin with his hand, lifted his face up, and tried to kiss him.

The reaction was immediate. Steeljaw didn't shove him off the couch, but he did jerk back in surprise, optics widening. "Kiddo," Steeljaw said, "I am _totally _not coming on to you here, so please don't take this the wrong way, but what the frag?"

"Sorry." He had a whole new reason to want to die, namely, terminal embarrassment. His first time, ever, trying to seduce someone and it was met with mere confusion. Maybe he should have tried high grade and roses rather than the direct approach. "I guess ... I guess I was hoping you w-wanted to frag. I guess. I'm sorry. I didn't ... slaggitall. Forget it."

Steeljaw stared at him. Frenzy realized he'd been a tad blunt. Well, he had learned to come right to the point from the master of direct statements. Soundwave wasn't exactly subtle, and he got irritated when his symbionts were evasive.

Steeljaw seemed sharply suspicion, but then his gaze softened when Frenzy didn't say anything else. Frenzy honestly didn't know what to do now. Soundwave said quietly, in an air of confession, "Most people see me a talking animal. I've had my share of lovers, but most are in it for the kink, which gets old."

"I'm not ..." He shook his head. "I know you're not an animal."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you're attracted to me." Steeljaw said, and there was bitterness in his words.

Frenzy blinked, really hearing Steeljaw's pain for the first time. He'd known the other mech was upset yesterday, but it had been a distant awareness that was swallowed by the depths of his own agony. He looked - really looked - at the other mech, and he saw pain akin to his own in Steeljaw's clear blue gaze.

The other mech explained, voice too controlled, "I've growled my way through enough trysts. I won't do it anymore."

"Growled ...? Oh." He blinked, entirely unsure what to say to that.

"Use your imagination about what kind of mech would be attracted to me."

"Yeah, got it. Probably the same sort that came on to Ravage occasionally." Frenzy smirked. "Ravage bit."

Steeljaw huffed. "If I bit anyone, Blaster'd have my aft, and Prowl would throw what was left in the brig. Anyway. Sorry to dump on you, kiddo. You've got enough burdens to bear right now. I just can't be anybody's berth-pet any more. I can't do it. I _can't_."

Something bloomed in his spark with those words. There had been enough death, enough grief, enough pain and betrayal and hurts. He could chase some of the shadows away from Steeljaw's spark with a few simple words, and it felt good to say them. "Steeljaw," he said, a bit impatiently, "All I see is a person, and someone I kinda like."

That earned him a bit of a smile, but it quickly flickered out.

"Look, I was bonded to a mech with your frame type. Ravage would have bit _me _if I ever saw him as less than a person. Probably someplace sensitive. Buzzsaw and Laserbeak would have backed him up. So I get it. Frame type doesn't have any bearing on sentience or personality. I _get _it."

Steeljaw sat down on his haunches, and regarded Frenzy with his head tilted to one side. Frenzy stared back, desperately wanting to see Steeljaw's unreadable expression soften. He wanted to touch that shiny plating again, and be touched, and forget, just for a bit, how very alone he felt. He _wanted _the big, kind-hearted symbiont to just trust him. He'd kissed him because he wanted Steeljaw to kiss back, not because he had a weird kink.

How did one go about seducing someone? He had no idea. Pit, he didn't even know how to make a friend. He felt lost, adrift, isolated. If Soundwave couldn't talk to him, he would have no one to confide in, or to support him. That thought kept coming back and playing itself in an endless loop in his head. It was selfish, he thought, because he should feel bad for Soundwave, and on one level he profoundly did. On another, he just couldn't get past what it would mean to him to never, ever, be able to talk to his master.

_Rumble would have fallen to pieces already. _

He was about to.

Maybe it would be just easier if he let go. Just ... _quit_. Soundwave would certainly follow, and he couldn't help but think that might be the best thing for Soundwave. His master was going to be horribly crippled. It would be a miserable existence. Frenzy shuttered his optics against Steeljaw's keen gaze. He'd made a terrible, selfish choice, but he could still undo it. All he had to do was go to the others.

And if he did, he wouldn't be alone. They were waiting for him, and for Soundwave. If he let go, if he allowed himself that seductive peace, Soundwave would certainly follow.

He wouldn't be alone.

He wouldn't ...

Steeljaw's hand brushed his cheek. He snapped his optics back online. Steeljaw murmured, "No, Frenzy. Don't. Stay here. Stay with me. I want you, and you won't be alone in this."

Steeljaw had read his mind. For a brief moment he wondered if Steeljaw had mods like Soundwave's. Had the mech literally scanned his thoughts?

Steeljaw's smile was lopsided. "Kiddo, I've been where you are. I could read your expression like it was one of my sibling's."

"Oh."

"Frenzy, you have no idea how attractive I find you. I will not frag you tonight, but I will make love to you. There is a difference."

"Oh. Umm. Okay." He had no idea what to do. He'd never done this before.

He was utterly relieved when the other mech took the lead. Steeljaw trailed a hand down his chest, fingers sliding over his armor. The touch left a trail of heat and warm tingles behind. Nobody had ever touched Frenzy that way in his life. He'd been groped plenty of times, but he'd never _wanted _someone to touch him. Steeljaw murmured, "I love your colors, you know. You are very attractive."

He reached out to the other symbiont, so nervous that his hands were shaking. "I ..." He swallowed, then found his voice. "I want you. On top. If ... _can _you?"

Asking the question embarrassed him. It only provoked a brief smile from Steeljaw, however.

There was going to be geometry involved, he recognized. Would he need to be on his hands and knees? He'd do it that way, but it seemed impersonal somehow, and Steeljaw had said he didn't want to be seen as an animal. He also knew his first time would hurt. He should probably tell Steeljaw he had seals, but he was worried that Steeljaw might change his mind if he thought Frenzy was innocent.

_Not that innocent. I know how this works. Watched enough trysts on the Nemesis. _  
_  
_The other cassette stepped back, stood up on his hind legs, and grabbed one of the rubbery cushions off the couch. Made of a tough, springy material, and designed for a mech Ratchet's size, it was knee high to Frenzy. Steeljaw pulled it onto the ground and then made a grand gesture at it. "Lay on the edge."

"... Oh." He settled nervously onto the cushion, sitting on the edge.

"I _have _done this before." Steeljaw grinned. "I take it you prefer to receive?"

"Umm." He didn't know. He'd fantasized about both ways. If Steeljaw was willing to be spiked, maybe he should accept that offer. It would certainly hurt less! And it couldn't be that hard to insert Tab A into Slot B and start thrusting. However, he was sick of making decisions right now, and he simply wanted to lie back and let Steeljaw take over. He wasn't entirely sure how to say this, but he tried. "I think I just want ... I just want you to make love to me. Okay? Umm. Maybe I can spike you later?"

"Yeah, okay. I think I'd like that." Steeljaw rested his hands on both sides of Frenzy's legs, leaned forward, and nuzzled Frenzy's neck. His stomach bumped against Frenzy's knees. "Primus, Frenzy. I can't believe we're doing this."

Frenzy reached up and stroked the sensory arrays just behind Steeljaw's ears, uncertainly sliding his fingers under heavy armor to stroke sensitive wiring. Steeljaw arched his neck to give Frenzy better access, and groaned appreciatively. "Mmmmm. That's right."

Encouraged, he found a sensor node and rolled his index finger around it. He liked the reaction he was getting. Steeljaw's fans had kicked on, and he groaned again. "Mmm. Don't rub my ears, okay? Just the neck ..."

Why not his ears? Frenzy wondered, but he did as Steeljaw had asked, sliding a hand under the edge of Steeljaw's armored ruff. He found intricate cables and sensors and wires there, and when his fingers brushed a cluster of sensory nodes, Steeljaw made a wordless noise of approval and arched his neck up against Frenzy's hand. "Oh, there ..."

His abdomen - and the dome of Steeljaw's interface panel - was bumping against Frenzy's knees. Steeljaw ran his hands down Frenzy's back all the way to his hips and slipped fingers into the sensitive seams. Frenzy stiffened in shock as the sensation this produced raced from his hips straight to his valve and spike. It was a liquid glow of heat and tingling energy, and it never felt like that when he touched himself!

Steeljaw laughed, "Good spot, hmm?" Then he did something with his thumb to a node at the small of his back that Frenzy didn't even know existed. He gasped, and clutched at Steeljaw's neck. Steeljaw nibbled at his jaw, not quite a kiss, but urgent and intimate.

"G... good," was all he managed. It felt amazing.

"If we're going to do this you need to spread your legs." Steeljaw seemed amused. He pressed against Frenzy's knees again.

"O... oh." He did, and suddenly the other mech was between his thighs, and pressing him back to the berth. Steeljaw's weight and heat covered him, and the mech's forearms slid up under his shoulders. Stubby fingers clutched at his back plating and Steeljaw ground against him, expression a mask of intent pleasure.

"Mm, I haven't done this in a long, long time." Steeljaw nuzzled at his neck again, and hot air vented across Frenzy's jaw as he spoke. "Primus. I think we both need this."

"Y ... yeah." He wasn't sure what to do with his legs. It was awkward resting his feet on the ground, and Steeljaw was spreading his knees wide apart as he pushed against Frenzy. He heard something mechanical hiss close to Steeljaw's hips, and then Steeljaw's spike, hot and hard and large, rubbed against his stomach plating.

Steeljaw reached down and caught Frenzy's right knee with one hand and tugged. He murmured into his neck, "Put your legs up around my waist. You need to tilt yourself upwards. The angle's wrong for me, otherwise."

"Oh." Well, that settled the question of what to do with his legs. He wrapped his legs around Steeljaw's back, and then Steeljaw's spike was rubbing against his interface cover. He hissed in surprise as the touch sent a whole new array of tingles through his body. He felt oddly weak, and yet energized, and he bucked his hips up instinctively, grinding them together.

"Gonna open up, kiddo?" Steeljaw said, a bit teasingly, close to Frenzy's cheek. He rocked his hips suggestively. "Or gonna make me work for it?"

"Oh!" He was just so _nervous_. He wondered if he should say something, but he desperately didn't want Steeljaw to back out.

"C'mon," Steeljaw rubbed against him, hands stroking Frenzy's side and his plating grinding against Frenzy's interface cover. His spike seemed huge as it slid between Frenzy's legs. It seemed that Steeljaw's interface equipment was a good bit larger than Frenzy's own. Steeljaw said, somewhat urgently, "C'mon, kiddo. You gonna make me beg here? Open up, c'mon."

He found the right command, and snapped his valve cover open. "O... okay."

Steeljaw grunted approval deep in his chest, and the blunt tip of his spike poked at Frenzy's interface equipment for a second, a little awkwardly. The bigger mech wiggled around, lined up, and found the right spot. Then he _thrust_, one smooth stroke, with an appreciative groan that cut off in mid stroke as he hit the seal. It split apart, Steeljaw gasped in surprise, and Frenzy screamed in shock.

It hurt quite a bit more than he'd been expecting.

Steeljaw stared down at him in frank shock. "Frenzy ..."

He reset his vocalizer twice before he could speak without gasping. "Yeah."

Steeljaw's spike was filling him. He could feel it moving within him as Steeljaw shifted his weight. It _hurt_. His valve spasmed against the intrusion, a sensation he'd never felt before, and he wanted to flinch away, but Steeljaw's weight on his hips had him pinned down.

"You were a slave," Steeljaw murmured. "I'd forgotten about that barbaric practice. A _seal_?"

"Yeah, they wanted to make sure that nobody touched us. Worth more, that way. Your owner was supposed to have that privilege, if he wanted it." Frenzy couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. He talked, trying to distract himself from his sudden feeling of trapped claustrophobia. He said, with a voice that shook a little, "I w-want this, Steeljaw. Tonight. _Please_."

Steeljaw frowned down at him. "Worth more ...? Nobody touched you? Frenzy, surely you're not ... but you're ... you're almost as old as I am. Pit slag, you're a _'con_!"

"And I have Soundwave for a master. Believe me, we didn't sleep around. He'd have known, and we'd have been toast."

"Why me?" Steeljaw whispered.

The pain was fading. He rocked his hips experimentally. The slide of Steeljaw's spike against formerly untouched sensors felt unexpectedly good. Steeljaw hissed, but didn't thrust back. His self control was remarkable, Frenzy thought. He could feel a slowly building energy within his own body. He felt like he had to _move_. He didn't know how Steeljaw could stay so still.

"Because you're kind." It was the simplest answer he could give. "I like you."

"... Frenzy," Steeljaw murmured, stroking his cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't know. I'd have gone a lot slower. I figured you were experienced."

"Finish what you started," he growled impatiently, tightening his legs around Steeljaw's waist and arching upwards. Steeljaw's spike slid in all the way up to the hilt, a delicious burning stretch that made him _feel _something besides grief and misery and guilt.

"Actually, I believe you started it," Steeljaw observed, even has he pressed an awkward kiss to Frenzy's forehead. "I am going to make _love _to you, Frenzy."

And then he started to move. Frenzy had spied on his share of trysts. He was expecting rough pounding and harsh passion. There was little room for tenderness among Decepticons, even between lovers.

However, Steeljaw moved within him gently, and he touched and stroked and kissed and nibbled. He murmured soft words of encouragement, urging Frenzy to relax and forget. He was gentle beyond anything Frenzy had ever known. Frenzy didn't need reminding that Steeljaw was no animal ... but this drove it home. There was nothing bestial about this.

It took a long time before he relaxed enough to climax. Steeljaw was patient, slowing down repeatedly, and patiently taking his time. Frenzy had _never _envisioned having a lover with Steeljaw's control and calm. He'd assumed it would be rough and urgent every time. It was, somehow, perfect this way.

When he finally came, it was in slow rolling waves. He shuddered, valve clamping down on Steeljaw's spike, optics offlining. He clutched at the other's armor even as Steeljaw thrust one last slow, firm time and then then there was a rush of hot nanyte laden fluids inside him. Steeljaw cried out, not a snarl that one might have expected, but a groan.

"Primus," he murmured, as Steeljaw settled across his chest. Steeljaw's spike was still in him, moving as Steeljaw shifted his weight. It sent tiny aftershocks through him. "Oh, Primus."

"Shh, Frenzy." Steeljaw wrapped his arms around Frenzy, and rolled over onto his side. "Rest, Frenzy." 

* * *

Bad memories during a defrag cycle woke him, hours later. He came up crying, calling out for his brother and for Soundwave.

Steeljaw was there, instead. The bigger cassette nuzzled his neck. "Shh. I know, Frenzy. I know."

He clung, for a second, recognizing Steeljaw before he was really oriented. Soundwave was still silent, barely detectable across the bond. He was just so damned alone.

He didn't want to think about Soundwave, or his siblings.

He spread his legs in invitation, sliding open his interface panel. "Make love to me again. Please?"

Steeljaw chuckled, low and amused. He settled between Frenzy's knees, heavy, welcome, his weight pinning Frenzy down. "Shh. Don't cry. I'm here."

He didn't cry. He lost himself in the physical sensation, the closeness, the feeling of intimacy and shared affections. Steeljaw brought him to another overload, and then held him close as he drifted off again.

Frenzy never let go of Steeljaw, even in recharge. 

* * *

A few hours later, it was Steeljaw's muffled whimpers that woke him. He lifted his head up to see that Steeljaw was twitching in his sleep.

"Steeljaw. Hey." He woke the other mech by shaking him gently, and cautiously. He'd seen one too many soldiers come online from a nightmare with guns locked and loaded.

Steeljaw, however, simply blinked awake and mumbled, "Bad memory. Sorry."

"Shh." It felt good to return some of the comfort. He pressed a kiss to Steeljaw's mouth.

Briefly, Steeljaw returned the kiss, then he tilted his head upwards, exposing his throat. Frenzy took the hint and nibbled his way down Steeljaw's neck. He relocated a sensitive node that he'd found earlier, and closed his mouth around it. Steeljaw cried out in appreciation and rolled over onto his back. "You said you wanted to spike me?" Steeljaw's tone was positively sultry.

"I've never ..." He hesitated.

"Primus, I want you, Frenzy." Steeljaw murmured. "I want you in me. I want you bad."

He didn't need any more encouragement. Earlier, he had not wanted to take charge. He'd wanted to be cared for. Now, however, being in control of something felt very good.

Steeljaw writhed beneath him, clearly enjoying himself. He was awed by the expressions on Steeljaw's face. When Steeljaw's valve clamped tight around his spike, he overloaded with a shout. Steeljaw closed his arms around him, and rolled over and held him tight.

For the moment, he wasn't alone. 

* * *

Ratchet was absolutely exhausted. All he wanted to do was check on Frenzy, assure him that Soundwave would live (assuming Primus didn't decide to claim him just to spite Ratchet's hard work), take a shower, and recharge for about twelve hours. 'Shower' and recharge' did not need to happen in that order. He was not sure what was more urgent, his need to defrag or his need to scrub the dried energon and the stink of medical solder and scorched circuits off his plating.

He stumbled through the doorway of his quarters, and stopped short.

The air was absolutely rank with the smell of overload: ozone, lubricant, reproductive nanytes.

Horrified, he took in the scene on his floor. One of his couch cushions was on the floor, and the cassettes were lying on it. Steeljaw was spooned around Frenzy, one foreleg thrown over Frenzy's slimmer body. Both of them were in recharge, but Frenzy roused as he entered.

"Oh. Ratchet." Frenzy elbowed Steeljaw awak. There was a distinctive hiss as the kid closed his interface panel. "Umm, how's Soundwave?"

"Recharging." He answered automatically. "He's finally stable."

Horror turned to anger as Steeljaw rolled over onto his chest and blinked sleepily at him. He had been dubious about the wisdom of Steeljaw being Frenzy's minder while Soundwave was in surgery, but Frenzy had clearly preferred him. It appeared that Steeljaw had taken full advantage of Frenzy's emotional state.

_Slaggit_. Steeljaw was low on his list of mechs who might do something like this. The cat had always been absolutely professional to work with. He was invariably polite, well-mannered, and responsible, a few well-executed pranks aside. Blaster claimed he had a mind of his own, but Ratchet had never seen him argue with a direct order.

However, the evidence was undeniable. Frenzy's thighs were covered in smeared fluids, and he had Steeljaw-colored marks between his thighs. That provoked a mental image that made Ratchet cringe. The kid was - had been - a virgin, and to lose his innocence now, and this way?

Frenzy stood up somewhat stiffly, moving like he was sore. Ratchet hoped that Steeljaw hadn't cracked any of the welds he'd made repairing the kid two days before. If he had, he'd kill Steeljaw twice over.

"Sorry, Ratchet," Frenzy said, sounding embarrassed. "Umm."

"Sorry?" He said in a deadly tone, optics narrowing at Steeljaw. "He's _sorry? _Steeljaw, what have you done?"

"Hey!" Frenzy protested. "Why are you mad at him?"

"Frenzy, I promised you that nobody would touch you." Ratchet was so furious he stood rooted in place. If he moved, he really was going to kill the four-legged slagger. "I am _sorry_. I should have followed my instincts. It was a bad, bad idea to have Steeljaw here. I was," he ground out, "stupid and I owe _you _an apology."

"But ... oh, you think he forced me?" Frenzy barked a laugh. "Believe me, I could hold my own in a fight with him."

"_Forced _him?" Steeljaw radiated offense at that implied accusation. The symbiont sounded more shocked than offended, "I would _never _do that."

"Seduced, then. This shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry." _Pit. _Ratchet's mind raced ahead. If he lit into Steeljaw like he wanted to, it would make Frenzy feel horrible. The kid had enough to worry about. Clearly, Frenzy thought this was okay, but it didn't change the fact that Steeljaw had violated half a dozen well established rules and had been just plain _stupid _to boot.

And where the slag had Blaster been? He suspected he needed to have words with a certain carrier, too. Or maybe just bring him up on charges as an accessory. He had to have known what was going on. Lust, he was given to understand, was pretty hard to block.

Right now, however, he knew Frenzy was in a fragile emotional state. He needed to be careful with his reactions, at least until he was out of earshot.

"It was my idea, so lay off him." Frenzy looked like he was very close to some sort of explosion. Steeljaw's jaw was clenched tight, and he looked furious. "My idea! I wanted it!"

"Easy." Steeljaw touched Frenzy on the arm. Ratchet wanted to fling him away, possibly with enough force to smash him into a wall. "We'll talk later, okay? I'm sure Ratchet wants to have a few words with me now, given his apparent low estimation of my character."

Ratchet blinked. He'd been expecting more of an argument, perhaps outright defiance from both of them.

_:Let's not make a scene in front of Frenzy.: _Steeljaw sent him a _very _encrypted comm message, using a key that only officers were supposed to have. Apparently, that also applied to the symbionts of officers. His tone was just barely respectful. _:He will blame himself. I'd just as soon he not know how much trouble I'm about to get in. For the record, I'm quite offended you'd think I would take advantage of _anyone_.:_

:How dare _you do this. You _know _the rules about relations with prisoners. He's a prisoner. He's a Decepticon. I could have your sigil stripped for this, Steeljaw.:_

:I dared, because his life _was more important than any rule and any punishment. I have been in his tracks, and I know the pain he's living with: _Steeljaw met Ratchet's eyes with a narrowed gaze. _:We both know that Soundwave could have died last night, and still might not make it. Frenzy would have followed. Frenzy was thinking about ending himself _anyway_. I just gave him something to live for. He doesn't love me, but he _thinks _he does. That's enough for now. If Soundwave dies, he will have something - someone - _me - _to live for."_

:And if he realizes you're faking it with him?:

:I am not faking it.: Steeljaw cast a fond look at Frenzy. _:Ratchet, he sees me as a person _and _we have a great deal in common. Please. I know you are a compassionate mech. There are some rules made to be broken, and this is one. He needs me right now.:_

His anger evaporated, more because he was watching Frenzy than from anything that Steeljaw had said. It was clear from the look on Frenzy's face, and his body language, and from Steeljaw's words, that everything had been consensual. However, he knew the rules that Steeljaw had broken were there for very good reasons. _:I can't overlook this, Steelie. Go to Prowl's office. I'm sorry.:_

:Yes, sir.: Steeljaw didn't sound overly surprised. He turned to Frenzy, and rested his head against Frenzy's chest briefly. Frenzy wrapped his arms around Steeljaw in a fierce hug, glaring at Ratchet over Steeljaw's head. Steeljaw said, "Frenzy, we'll talk later."

"Ratchet, it was my idea!" Frenzy protested again, and pointedly not letting go of Steeljaw.

"I believe that," Ratchet said. He also believed that both of them were complete and total fools. Not that he was _ever _surprised when young mechs acted like idiots when someone else's attractive aft was involved. "Steeljaw's not in trouble because I think he forced you. I also believe he'll find the punishment worth it, eh, Steelie?"

"Oh, definitely." Steeljaw continued to lean against Frenzy.

Frenzy put his hands on Steeljaw's muzzle, pulled his head up, and kissed him. There was defiance in that action, but also desperate need. Steeljaw resisted for a moment, his optics on Ratchet.

_:Oh, please. I used to be a politician. I've seen people kiss the _afts _of things a lot more freaky than you, Steeljaw,: _Ratchet snorted, refusing to acknowledge just how uneasy their actions made him feel, on multiple and varied levels.

_:Heh.: _Steeljaw turned his full attention to Frenzy for a minute. Then, with very obvious regret, he stepped back. "Kiddo, I care about you. We _will _talk later."

"You'd better." Frenzy reached out traced an old weld mark on Steeljaw's face for a second. "Thank you, Steeljaw. For everything."

"Yeah. You, too."

After Steeljaw had left, Frenzy looked up at him with huge optics. "He shouldn't be in any trouble."

"Go get cleaned up." He waved a hand in the direction of his private wash rack. Frenzy more or less fled in that direction. Ratchet ran a hand over his face. If it weren't for the fact that he was still quite worried about Soundwave, he'd get massively overcharged.

He rose, after a bit, and went to fetch breakfast. When he returned, Frenzy had somehow managed to both clean the cushion and wrestle it back up onto the couch. He was curled up in a corner, arms around his knees, staring into space.

"How's Soundwave's spark feel to you?" Ratchet asked, a serious question. He handed Frenzy a cube of energon. He'd warmed it, and added sweeteners.

Frenzy sipped at it, gave Ratchet's adulterated energon a surprised look, sipped again, and gave the question the serious consideration it deserved. "He feels stable. You've got him pretty sedated, I think, but he's not in stasis lock anymore."

"He is sedated, and will be for the next several days. I want to make sure that we found all the glitches before we let him come around. His nanytes really went haywire and did a lot of damage. He's not conscious, but you can go visit him this afternoon. First Aid's running a bunch of diagnostics on him this morning."

"Thanks." Frenzy glanced in the direction of the med bay. Doubtless, Ratchet thought, he'd prefer to be at Soundwave's side, but he wasn't kidding about the testing. He'd had to rebuild Soundwave's operating system the hard way, one line at a time, and he had First Aid going over his work to check for errors.

"There's nothing you can do for him now anyway," Ratchet pointed out.

Frenzy shook his head. "I know. I just don't understand why you're mad at Steeljaw."

"I'm not mad." He had been, but Steeljaw's explanation made far too much sense.

"Then why is he being punished?" Frenzy frowned. "I assumed that's why he's going to Prowl's office."

"Yes. He's in a fair amount of trouble. We have ... rules ... Frenzy."

"It was my idea. You're acting like he raped me!"

"Frenzy, to be blunt, you're a prisoner." Ratchet ran a hand over his face again. "Kiddo, we can put all the pretty words on it that we want. I'm sure that Optimus was slagging diplomatic. But you _are _a captive here. Autobots don't interface with prisoners. Ever. It's really all kinds of inappropriate, and Steeljaw knows that."

"But ... but I _needed _him. I _need _him."

"In your case," Ratchet frowned at him, "it was not morally wrong, what he did. Don't think I'm condemning him, because I'm not."

Frenzy gave him a miserable look. "I _need _him."

"You need to look at this from two standpoints, Frenzy. The first is that we cannot allow an Autobot to pressure a prisoner into giving sexual favors. We also can't risk a prisoner bribing an Autobot with 'facing. The second reason is that, generally speaking, it's a bad idea for Autobots to be too sympathetic, too attached, to prisoners."

Frenzy gave him a wounded look.

"In your case? I'm not worried about too much sympathy for you. You aren't an escape risk, or a threat." Ratchet smiled at him reassuringly. "But - can't you see how a prisoner could use his body to win the trust of an Autobot guard, and then escape? That rule is there for good reasons."

Frenzy whispered, "That means I'll never be able to be with him, though. Right? I'll always be a prisoner, and he'll always be an Autobot."

Ratchet wanted, somewhat badly, to pick Frenzy up and try to comfort away some of those fears. Given the circumstances, getting touchy-feely with Frenzy was probably a bad idea. His reputation was impeccable. He'd like to keep it that way. However, he just plain liked the kid.

He'd gotten a good look at Frenzy's mind yesterday. Soundwave, understandably, had been pure fear, with his higher logic functions compromised both by terror and software errors. Frenzy, once he'd calmed down, had been far more coherent than his master. Ratchet definitely liked him - and, given his history as a Decepticon, that really surprised Ratchet. He was smart, and surprisingly sensitive, with a keen sense of fair play. He had made a mental note to introduce Frenzy to some of the easier going Autobots like Bumblebee, Bluestreak, and Beachcomber.

He was also going to ask Wheeljack to truly take the kid under his wing, and get him working with the engineering department. Frenzy was well trained enough to be useful, and he could easily see him fitting in with the other engineers.

He might also see how Frenzy got along with Spike. _That _was something he wanted to approach cautiously, but it would give Frenzy a friend at his own eye level, and probably close to his own level of maturity. Frenzy was legally an adult, but still very young.

He had _very _high hopes that, if they treated him right, Frenzy wouldn't always be a prisoner. Part of treating him right was going to be integrating him with the crew. It wouldn't be the first time that Ratchet had schemed

"Thought so," Frenzy said, sounding angry, and apparently taking Ratchet's silence as confirmation. His jaw set mulishly, he stared off into space somewhere past Ratchet's elbow.

Ratchet sighed. "Look, I'll see what I can do ..."

"Do what? Your rules are inflexible. And stupid."

"Yeah, probably." He wasn't in a mood to argue. "Look, Frenzy, I'm exhausted ..."

"I'm _alone_." Frenzy clearly wasn't going to drop it. He hunched his shoulders. "Look, can I at least go sit with Soundwave while you recharge? I swear I won't get in First Aid's way. Or go work? Or something? I don't want to be alone." He scowled. "You have no idea what it's like. I've always had somebody else bonded to my spark, _always_. Now there's only Soundwave, and he's out cold. It's pretty quiet in here," he gestured at his head. "Being with Steeljaw helped. A lot. Now you've taken him away from me, and he's in trouble for helping me. So pardon me for being just a little skeptical that you're the good guy you want me to think you are."

_Primus. _

Frenzy repeated, "I just don't want to be alone. So don't ask me to sit here in the dark while you sleep. Because I really, really, don't think I can take it. _Please_, Ratchet."  
_  
_Behind the kid's words lurked more pain than he thought any mech should have to bear. Steeljaw, he suddenly realized, had not been exaggerating. He knew bondmates offlined when they lost a partner, he'd lost his share over the years despite all effort to save them, but he'd been too busy working on Soundwave to really pay much attention to Frenzy. Desperation and grief shone in those blue optics.

"You want Steeljaw?" It was an impulsive question, but also an easy one. Slag it all to hell, he was too soft, sometimes.

"_Yes_."

"I know I'm going to regret this." He comm'd Steeljaw. _:You at Prowl's office yet, you idiot?:_

:No, sir.:

:Get your aft back here. I'm probably going to regret this. You want him? You get to babysit him while I recharge.:

Not Steeljaw, but Blaster, responded. _:Ratchet, don't get yourself in trouble over this. What Steeljaw did was a criminal offense. We both knew it, and I'm as culpable as he is. I knew what he was doing. And why.:_

:My concern is Frenzy, right now, not you two morons. I've seen my share of bonded mechs offline. If he's decided Steeljaw's a reason to live, then I'd be contrary to my oaths as a physician to get in the way. I'll ... I'll deal with the fallout with Prime and Prowl. Do note that I am not going to conceal this. However, I believe that medical necessity supercedes all of the rules and regs he broke.:

:Thank you, sir,: Steeljaw said, sounding utterly relieved.

_:I'd better not regret this.:_

:We'll be discrete, sir.:

:I'm not even worried about that. Just ... treat him right.: He was very worried that a relationship that started on such shaky grounds could turn out badly. How could it be love between them? They had not known each other nearly long enough, and they were from opposite factions. He was pretty sure that once the warm-fuzzies from 'facing with a new partner wore off, the two of them would find they didn't have much in common and the relationship would not last.

Still, by the time their little affair turned sour, hopefully Frenzy would be in a better mental state overall. Soundwave would be healthier. Frenzy wouldn't feel so lonely. He'd just have to make sure that Frenzy had made a few other friends, and felt like he was a part of the Ark.

_:Of course I'll treat him right!: _Steeljaw sounded annoyed that Ratchet would even think he _might _behave badly towards the kid. _:Primus. I'm not going to screw it up with him, sir. Frenzy's the first mech I've met in a very long time who sees me as a person, who doesn't flinch away or get all kinky at me when the subject of interfacing comes up, and who's size compatible. Do you know how rare that is?:_

:Way too much information, Steelie,: Blaster said, but he sounded amused. _:You're going to fry the doc's neural circuits.:_

:Sorry, sir.:

:I'm well aware you're a person and not an animal, Steeljaw. Your frame type has no bearing on how I perceive you.:

:Yes sir,: Steeljaw said, too politely.

He turned his attention back to Frenzy. "Okay. Steeljaw's on his way back. Do _not _make me regret this."

"I won't, I promise."

"Good." He ran a hand over his face again and considered the likelihood of the two young mechs finding a private spot and engaging in a little sex of the dubiously healing kind before the end of his nap. He was just _not _a fan of the whole relationship between them, but he had his duties as a medic to think of before his personal feelings. "Look, I'd planned to have a few words with you anyway. Bluntly, I want to make sure you know everything you need to know to stay safe when you interface. I don't need any extra work."

"I'm well aware of where to stick it, thanks," Frenzy ground out, real irritation showing on his face.

That gave him a mental image he could have done without. He said firmly, "Yes, but there's more to it than the simple mechanics."

"Believe me, I've seen more than the simple mechanics on the Nemesis. Want to hear about Starscream's kinks?"

"Not particularly, no." He glared. He was also well aware of them, courtesy of some classified reports that Prowl had shown him. Prowl had wanted to know if some of the things Starscream was supposed to be into were actually _feasible_, from a mechanical standpoint. He'd had to do some research on some of them. His colleagues back on Cybertron had been hilariously amused by the questions he'd sent them. He forced himself to focus on Frenzy, and the quick bit of interface education he liked to give every young mech he served with.

"First off, kiddo, you do _not _have a valve plug installed. I checked when I put you back together."

He'd been tempted to remedy that problem, or simply leave the kid's gestation chamber (which had been trashed along with everything else) disconnected from his valve, but that would have been unethical.

"We didn't ..." Frenzy shook his head. "I'm not that stupid. I didn't have spark sex with him."

"Well, there's that. Thank Primus for mechs with common sense." He rubbed his face, and ignored Frenzy's glower. "This afternoon, _after _I have a good nap, you will come by my office, and I _will _install a plug. I am not going to trust in you continuing to be _not stupid. _Until then, for the love of Primus, don't bare your spark to him."

"Gotcha."

"You do know how that works, right? Gestation chamber full of reproductive nanytes, zap it with some spark energy from two mechs, voila, new sparklet? Problem is that we don't have the ability here to raise sparklings. I don't have any of the equipment I'd need, and we don't have enough Cybertronium to make a new protoform either the natural way, or in a vat. So don't get sparked up. We'd have to terminate, and that would make me very, very cranky, because I like sparklings."

Frenzy, to his credit, looked suitably horrified at the thought of terminating a gestating sparklet. Good. Hopefully, the two wouldn't do anything irredeemably stupid between now and the end of his nap.

He frowned, then added, "You do know you can still get sparked if you're the one plugging, right?"

That got him a blink of surprise. "I can?"

"Gestational nanytes have a life span of about a day in your reproductive chamber. It's happened. Saw a case when I was just out of medical school where some real nimwit of a seeker got plugged by his grounder boyfriend, then cheated on the poor guy and had spark sex with another seeker. Think about the ramifications of _that _for a moment, and how we figured it out."

Frenzy winced. "Seeker spark, no wings?"

"Which led to one very confused child. Yes." Ratchet scratched his jaw. Frenzy was evidently aware that a seeker-x-grounder hybrid always resulted in another grounder. He wasn't surprised, given the number of seekers in the 'con ranks. "So if you're thinking you can avoid the problem of a sparklet by baring your spark and doing the plugging, you'd best give it _several _days to be sure."

"Yes sir." Frenzy looked suitably chastened.

"Let's see ... you know not to stick anything where the sun doesn't shine without cleaning it first, right? And no carbon based compounds go up your valve, ever. That includes plastics, carbon based oils, energon, nothing."

Frenzy gave him a wide-eyed look. Ratchet didn't mind that look of shock at all. At least he wasn't looking like he was one respiration from offlining out of pure grief. "Umm ... why?"

"I'm going to assume that wasn't a 'why would anyone do that.'" Ratchet smirked. "You're not _that _clueless."

He snorted. "Rumble was my brother. Remember? I get the concept of a dildo. Why no carbon?"

Ratchet noted that Frenzy wasn't particularly easy to embarrass, either. Well, he had Rumble for a brother. Ratchet had pretty much figured out that Rumble was the wild one, and Frenzy was the brains of the pair, though Frenzy's temper sometimes eclipsed his smarts.

He answered his question, after rolling his eyes, "Because it might leave a residue behind, or a piece might break off. You get going hard and heavy with that boyfriend of yours, your internals can get hot enough to ignite some carbon compounds. Or if you've got any kind of a shorted sensor, it can throw a spark. Tends to lead to some very interesting injuries." Ratchet smirked. "Painful ones. Don't do it."

"Umm, advice noted." Frenzy looked amused. "Don't frag with flammables."

Ratchet continued. He was giving Frenzy the abbreviated version of a course he'd taught at the academy, years ago, and a short version of the talk he'd given to many new recruits. Gory details were useful to discourage stupidity. "Usually what happens in an accident like that is that, aside from some significant damage to your valve, the heat causes the hydraulic fluid for your spike to expand to the point that your spike bursts. That is quite painful, and since that injury is inevitably caused by stupidity, it is also a very low priority repair. I'll fix it when I get around to it."

"Umm, noted. Seriously."

He grinned. "I could show you some pictures in my medical manuals ..."

"Seriously, no. Though maybe that explains what happened to Starscream that one time ..." Frenzy said in a tone of speculation. "We always thought Motormaster had just bitten it off."

For the life of him, he couldn't tell if Frenzy was telling the truth or was just spinning a bit of a tale. Starscream was a scientist with a medical background. Surely he wouldn't be that stupid. On the other hand, it was Starscream, and Frenzy's expression was absolutely guileless.

After flashing him a grin in appreciation of the anecdote (true or not, it was damn funny) Ratchet continued on with his lecture, "Before you have spark sex with anyone, you make sure they've had a virus scan since their last lover. If they haven't, make them check out a medical data pad and run a check. Steeljaw, for the record, is clean. He had a checkup last week."

Frenzy nodded.

"His equipment's a good bit bigger than yours, and he's got more sheer power than you do. He can hurt you if he's rough. I'll have a word with _him _about that, but you make sure you tell him to knock it off if you're uncomfortable. Don't feel obligated to tough it out, because he's doing something wrong by definition if he's hurting you." Ratchet had seen his share of problems caused by a size mismatch, generally with one very embarrassed patient and one very apologetic lover both cringing in his med bay. He'd rather embarrass the kid now by pointing this issue out rather than deal with it later. "It's not supposed to hurt after that first time - which, by the way, would not have been an issue if I'd have had time to have this lecture with you first. I _was _planning on offering to remove your seals when I installed your plug."

Frenzy shrugged. "I'm okay."

He concluded with a softer tone, "Frenzy, you're an adult. You're capable of chosing your own partners. However, I _will _tell you that I'm worried about this, and I'm worried about both of you, and if you need anyone to talk to, though, about Steeljaw, or Soundwave, or anything else in your life, I will listen."

"And say sarcastic things," Frenzy said, but he was smiling a little when it said it. "Part of your job is to listen, eh? Decepticon medics aren't so nice."

He had been standing up and looking down at the little cassette, but now he crouched. He said quietly, "I don't have time, as a medic, to coddle my patients. Being blunt is a lot more efficient. However, I have time for my friends. You're a good kid. I'd like to be your friend."

"I'm a Decepticon."

"There's solvent in my wash room if you want to take that sigil off, you know." He poked Frenzy in the chest with one finger, over the Decepticon emblem.

He was surprised by the smile that his teasing provoked. "I might do that, sir. Soundwave said we're neutrals anyway."

He nodded slowly. He had expected a scowl, not acceptance of that suggestion. He suspected Soundwave was torqued off enough to leave the 'cons over Megatron's assault on Frenzy, and Frenzy was just pissed on general principles all around. "If you need help touching your paint up after you take that symbol off, we can do it after I get some recharge. We can use the paint booth in the med bay. It's up to you, but I will say that it will be easier for many mechs to see _Frenzy _and not 'that Decepticon' without a symbol in the way."

He glanced down, then smiled faintly. "It just occurred to me that Steeljaw says he likes me because I don't see a beast when I look at him. Well, he doesn't see a Decepticon when he looks at me. Not many mechs are going to be that forgiving, are they?"

"Probably not."

Frenzy bit his lip for a second. His smile disappeared, and he looked troubled again. "Soundwave won't like it."

"Like what?"

"Me being friends with you."

Ratchet nodded slowly. There were elements of their relationship that deeply troubled him. The implication that Frenzy wasn't allowed to be friends with other people was one. Soundwave had needed to be protective, and he had no real reason to trust the Autobots any more than he had trusted the Decepticons, so perhaps his caution was understandable. However, he wondered if Frenzy had _ever _had friends outside his bondmates.

Frenzy's frown deepened. "I'm going to need you. Even if Soundwave doesn't like it, I'm going to need people. He's really _not _going to be happy about Steeljaw, and I'm not willing to give him up no matter what. Ratchet, this isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"No." Ratchet rested his hand on Frenzy's shoulder again. "No, Frenzy. It isn't. But we _will _help you."

He intended to keep repeating the mantra of _you will have help _until Frenzy believed it.

"... Thanks." Frenzy glanced down at his sigil. He ran his fingers over it. "... Thanks, Ratchet. For everything you've done."

"Just don't make me regret it." Ratchet gave him friendly shove. "Get. I'm tired. Go get breakfast with Steeljaw or something. _Don't _do anything indiscrete in public. Got me?"

"Yes sir." Frenzy smiled at him, a real smile. In a much softer voice than earlier he repeated, "And thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - An Adjustment of Plans

* * *

Frenzy had not really been out and about in the main areas of the Ark yet. He'd worked in the maintenance tunnels yesterday, and hadn't seen many other Autobots in the tunnels. So, when Steeljaw padded towards the rec room, he hesitated. He had no idea what his reception would be.

Steeljaw stopped when Frenzy slowed down, and turned to face him. "Scared, huh?" He nudged Frenzy in the chest with his forehead, a Steeljaw-hug. "Don't worry. I won't lie to you, there are some who'd just as soon see you slagged, but they'll behave themselves. Everyone's under orders to be nice."

He automatically reached up and rubbed Steeljaw's neck with one hand, closing his eyes briefly. The other mech nudged Frenzy's blank chest plates, devoid of any factional insignia, and stripped to bare metal by paint solvent. "This will help, you know."

He'd removed his Decepticon insignia minutes earlier. He had mixed feelings about that, almost as if he was changing who he was to fit in. He was pissed as hell at Megatron, but he'd been a Decepticon most of his life. "It feels a bit weird."

"I don't doubt it."

He still had his arms wrapped around the other mech's neck. Now he slid two fingers under Steeljaw's armor and found the sensitive line of a neural wire. Steeljaw arched into the touch with a gusty sigh, eyes flaring. It gave him a thrill to know a simple touch could do that to the other mech ... and that Steeljaw wanted him. Then Steeljaw stepped back swiftly and said, "C'mon, Red Alert monitors this corridor. Before we give him a glitch, we should get going."

"I want ..." he hesitated. He wanted that closeness again, that intimacy. It was a pale substitute for what he'd lost, but at least it was a distraction. A tiny voice in his spark wondered if it might lead to something more than physical, too ... and he told that voice to shut up. He tried again to tell Steeljaw what he wanted, but he couldn't quite force the right words out. He wasn't used to having a _lover_. "Us ... Later?"

"Of course. If they'll let us." Steeljaw walked at his side again, stride relaxed. He envied that composure.

"Ratchet will make sure," he said, with confidence and gratitude. The medic had no reason to help him, but had. He really didn't think he could handle life right now without what Steeljaw was giving him.

"Mm. I expect I'll get in a pitload of trouble anyway." Steeljaw glanced up at him, lips twisting into a smile. "Just don't feel guilty about it, okay? Everything worthwhile in life has a price. You're worth it."

"We barely know each other." Then he hastily shut his mouth, before he said something rude and obnoxious, that might drive Steeljaw away.

He didn't understand Steeljaw, really. He suddenly wondered if the mech had an ulterior motive and if so, what that was. Why did Steeljaw think he was worth getting in serious trouble over? There were plenty of mechs who'd think a few days in the brig was a fair trade for a good frag, but he'd gotten the distinct impression from Ratchet that Steeljaw could have gotten in far more trouble than that. He was very afraid Steeljaw might decide he wasn't worth the hassle, too. It was true they barely knew each other.

"Heh. We'll have to change that, then." Steeljaw bumped his shoulder into Frenzy's hip. "In between 'facing each other unconscious, we can, oh, I don't know, talk? It's sort've traditional between lovers, you know, to talk. Sounds like a great way to get to know each other. I'm all for talking, though 'facing's good too. Maybe a little of both?"

He had stumbled when Steeljaw had shoved him playfully, and laughed, and then stopped short, startled. His flash of amusement had been truly genuine. Steeljaw's wry humor had been very real. As swiftly as it had come, however, he'd thought of his late siblings and Soundwave, and felt guilty for laughing.

The rec room was up ahead. Steeljaw turned again to face him, this time with a very serious expression. "We will need to be discrete, for now. I'm sorry, Frenzy." He paused for a moment, looking past Frenzy with optics that seemed to be seeing memories and not the present. In a very, very soft tone, head sinking down, he said, "We need to be discrete because of the rules we're breaking ... but there are plenty of people on this base who will think less of you for being with me."

He snorted. He knew what Steeljaw was asking, without actually being willing to bring voice to his darkest fears. He wanted to know if Frenzy would be willing to openly have a relationship with him. Frenzy said boldly, "I'm willing to bet that you fragging a 'con wouldn't exactly make you popular either."

It scared him, though. He _needed _to fit in. Suddenly, he was very uneasy about his relationship with Steeljaw. There _were _going to be mechs who disapproved, and it could put him - and Soundwave - at risk. Pit, he knew how he'd reacted to the pervs who'd hit on Ravage. Plenty of people would assume _he _was a perv for his interest in Steeljaw.

There was a part of him who wanted to drag Steeljaw off to the nearest supply closet and interface with him until neither of them could walk, but he was pretty sure his interest didn't have much to do with Steeljaw's frame type or a desire to do it with an "animal." It was Steeljaw's cool confidence and keen intelligence that he found most attractive.

Steeljaw was searching his expression. Suddenly, he shook his head, and laughed. "Tell you what - I promise I won't worry about what people think if you won't."

"Deal, Mousebreath."

"Hey!" Steeljaw's indignant expression made him smile.

"You were the one who caught it with your jaws!" He elbowed Steeljaw in the shoulder.

"Yeah, well, I can't run and grab with my hands at the same time," Steeljaw said, a little bit defensively.

"I'd have just stepped on it. I _hate _mice."

Pest patrol yesterday, as Wheeljack termed it, had included a frantic chase after a rodent that escaped from one of the live traps. Just as it was about to get away, Steeljaw had caught it, very delicately, with his teeth, without hurting it.

"And get mice guts on my feet?" Steeljaw mimed shaking a paw in absolute disgust.

Frenzy laughed for the second time that morning. He really loathed rodents, but he also suspected that Steeljaw was secretly soft on them. Steelie had been a bit too careful in the way he'd captured the animal, and gently deposited it in a bucket.

Steeljaw grinned at him. "You are gorgeous when you laugh, Frenzy."

Guilt slammed into him. He was laughing even while Soundwave lay unconscious in the med bay and his siblings were dead. His smile must have slipped from his face, because Steeljaw stepped forward and leaned his head against Frenzy's chest again. Frenzy wrapped his arms around Steeljaw's neck onto him, even as he mentally cursed Steeljaw's touchy-feely nature. He didn't want to cry, and Steeljaw's sympathy threatened to get him going again.

One minute he'd been laughing. The next he was fighting back sobs. Maybe he was going crazy.

"Shh." Steeljaw looked up at him. "You're okay."

"... That's the problem. I'm okay. I'm _laughing_. And they're dead ... and Soundwave ..."

"If you were feeling upset," Steeljaw said, quietly, "Maybe really upset, maybe somebody you'd cared about had died, what would Rumble do?" When Frenzy couldn't begin to answer that question, Steeljaw continued in that same calm tone, "He would try to cheer you up, right? He'd probably do something stupid, clown around, maybe tease you until you laughed."

"... Yeah. He was good at that."

"He'd probably tease you until you laughed right now, right?" Steeljaw's blue eyes were so clear, so keen. They seemed to be looking right through to Frenzy's spark. In an even tone that seemed to capture every bit of Frenzy's attention he said, "You know, I often watched you and your siblings. You spied on us, and we spied on you, and I have a feeling we know each other better than we think. I know you like video games, and human sports, and you read comic books, and your temper isn't as bad as everyone thinks. You let loose in battle, but you can and do control it when you need to. You _use _it for strength and courage when you fight, at that is why you have a reputation for being a berzerker."

He was surprised by the amount that Steeljaw seemed to know, but before he could say anything, the other mech continued, "And I know Rumble and the others loved you, because of the way you treated each other. Rumble would be trying to cheer you up right about now. He wouldn't want you to hurt so badly. It's okay to miss him, but you don't need to feel guilty if you laugh occasionally. You don't have to _punish _yourself, because you lived and they died - and that is what you are trying to do right now, because you feel guilty."

He tightened his arms, surprise turning into gratitude. "I didn't know you'd watched us so much."

"Bet you know a lot about me, too," Steeljaw murmured.

"Y... yeah, I guess." Not, he thought, as much as Steeljaw seemed to know about him.

"Ahem."

Both of them sprang apart, raising matching surprised stairs to see Jazz frowning at them as he padded silently up the hall. "Ah heard from Red Alert that you two were behaving inappropriately in the hall."

"Told you he had a camera on this hallway," Steeljaw said to Frenzy, then to Jazz, eyes narrowed, he said firmly, "A _hug _is not inappropriate behavior."

"Ah had a talk with Ratchet 'n Prowl 'n Prime a few minutes ago." Jazz's frown did not lighten. "About something that ah know nothing about. Ah'd like to keep not knowing anything about it. Understand?"

"Yessir," Frenzy said, very firmly, and with real feeling, "I don't want any trouble."

"Thank you, sir." Steeljaw gave Jazz a very relieved smile.

"Ya can thank me," Jazz said, still scowling at him, "by not complaining when ah assign you monitor duty, pest patrol, wash rack maintenance, wastewater removal, and every additional miserable job I can think of for the next _millennia_. And then when you're done with that, you get to come by my office and help me with paperwork."

Steeljaw said, with a very bright smile, "Do I ever complain?"

"No," Jazz finally relented a bit. "Ya don't, even when ya sometimes should, Steelie."

Steeljaw shrugged. "It's a fair punishment. I take it that it's unofficial, though - as far as everyone else is concerned, you're just giving me the scut work because I torqued you off somehow?"

"Ya got it." Jazz folded his arms under his bumper. "Anyone asks why yer scrubbing the wash racks down for the fifth time in a week, ya tell 'em I'm a slagger and ya pissed me off. Which is true enough."

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to anger you. Or disappoint you."

"Eh. The kid," and here, Jazz smiled briefly at Frenzy, who fought back irritation at being called a 'kid', "is outranked by the entire ship. Means he's gonna get assigned the same scut work you will. _Don't _make me regret that, or ya'll find yourself working opposite shifts real quick."

Frenzy blinked in surprise at this unexpected news. Steeljaw grinned hugely. "Thank you, sir."

"Get out of my sight. And don't let Red Alert catch you two snuggling in the halls again or I'll be forced to get creative with my assignments for ya. Ya won't like that much, ah promise."

"Thank you," Frenzy echoed Steeljaw, then hurried after the other cassette.

"Smart mech," Steeljaw murmured, as they approached the rec room. "If anyone ever finds out about us and makes a stink about it, Jazz can point out that I've already been thoroughly punished, and show the duty logs to prove it. I'm sure everybody will think I _am _being punished, but if I play it right, they'll also assume it's something classified that nobody can talk about."

Before Frenzy could respond to that, the rec room doors swooshed open. Steeljaw boldly walked through. Frenzy hurried to follow, and couldn't help but notice when the conversation in the room died abruptly, and was replaced by encrypted comm chatter. They were talking about him, undoubtedly.

He stopped short, and surveyed the room. It was packed full of mechs getting their morning rations. Most were either staring at him or trading looks of disbelief. Finally, someone - Gears - said aloud, "Why's he not in the brig? Or, maybe _dead_?"

"Frenzy, Steeljaw, why don't you join us?" A deep-voiced mech said from a table near the back of the room. That voice held huge reserves of dignity and assured confidence.

He spun, surprised by the invitation. Skyfire had made it, and Frenzy could have kissed his feet for it. He grinned broadly, said to the room in general, "I can see I'm _totally _welcome here," and scrambled up to sit crosslegged on the table.

Grumbles rose from the room at even that mild (by his standards of snark) response. Skyfire bent over in his chair to be closer to Frenzy's level. "How are your repairs feeling? I assisted Ratchet and Wheeljack."

Frenzy noted that nobody challenged Skyfire aloud, and the muttering had died down. Skyfire's rank wasn't very high, given he'd only recently joined the Autobots, but he was apparently very well respected. Also, he was very large.

"Oh." He was grateful that Skyfire hadn't asked a more open-ended 'how are you doing.' "Thanks. Umm. Fine, I guess."

"Good to hear. Ratchet works miracles. How's Soundwave doing?"

"... okay." He frowned. He didn't think there was going to be a miracle where Soundwave had been concerned. "I guess. Ratchet said I could see him after First Aid was done doing some tests."

He was oddly reluctant to face Soundwave.

Skyfire nodded. "Ratchet had all of us chasing down glitches last night. He even roped Prowl in for a bit - that battle computer of his is handy for anything that needs rapid parallel processing. Soundwave's code was well and truly corrupted beyond anything I'd ever seen. Ratchet orchestrated everything and put it back together like pieces of a puzzle."

Frenzy was more than a little surprised to hear that others had been involved in saving Soundwave. Ratchet had been into Soundwave's processor deep enough for Frenzy to sense him through the bond, and he must have been downloading fragmented code to the others to fix. "How many of you were working on him?"

"Me, Wheeljack, First Aid, Smokescreen, Perceptor, and Prowl." Skyfire smiled. "It was quite an effort, and if Ratchet wasn't so good at organizing everyone, it wouldn't have succeeded."

"Oh." He couldn't imagine such an effort from the Decepticons for an Autobot.

"You okay?" Skyfire said.

He was beginning to _hate _that question. He wanted to answer it with a very snarky negative. Instead, he chose honest bluntness. "I don't understand you people."

Skyfire started to rest a hand on him arm. He was getting almighty tired of everyone petting him like a sparkling the moment he showed even the slightest sign of angst, and Skyfire was big enough to squish him like a bug if he was rough. He shot a dangerous glare at the hand, and stepped quickly away. "Don't. I might bite."

"Sorry." Skyfire lowered his hand down to the table carefully.

"Sorry," he also apologized, for rejecting Skyfire's advance. Feeling weirdly embarrassed, he stared down at the surface of the table and folded his arms. He was getting very tired of being pawed, but by Skyfire's expression he had not expected to be rebuffed. He'd probably made some sort of weird social faux pax. Autobots were strange. He mumbled, "Not used t' people like you guys."

"Mmm." Skyfire glanced out at the room. "You know something I noticed about the Decepticons, when Starscream woke me?"

"What?"

"I noticed it in their rec room, which is pretty similar to ours on the surface. However, their body language is different. Everybody's wary of each other among the Decepticons. Everyone wears arms openly, even in the base. Here, even the worst of us, the most battle hardened and scarred, do not fear their fellow Autobots. It says something about the Autobot culture that all weapons are subspaced. The only reason they carry weapons at all on the basel is to allow for rapid response if the Decepticons attack."

Frenzy glanced up at Skyfire, and then out at the room. Even the toughest Autobot warriors looked relaxed. Jazz was teasing Arcee, who had her hands on her hips and was giving as good as she got. Neither of them looked like they were afraid of the other. Sideswipe was horsing around with his twin. Ironhide was deep in conversation with Kup. Hound, Bluestreak, Trailbreaker, and Mirage were sharing a table, occasionally glancing in his direction, but not watching each other.

Skyfire was right. They _trusted _each other.

It would be easy to dismiss them as naive and foolish, but those same naive, foolish Autobots had slagged up enough Decepticons over the years for him to discredit _that _idea. If anything, they were better fighters than the Decepticons, because they fought together as a team. Soundwave regularly grumbled about the Decepticon attitude of 'each for himself' and the battles it had lost them over the years.

The door swished open, admitting Optimus. Conversation briefly stopped, but then just as quickly started up again after chorused greetings. Nobody rose; he was probably off duty. Optimus, somewhat to Frenzy's concern, walked in their direction.

"Good morning, sir," Skyfire said. He gestured at a seat. "Join us? I was just talking to Frenzy about the differences between Autobot and Decepticon culture."

"'Morning, sir." Frenzy eyed Optimus warily as he sat down at the table.

"Good morning, Frenzy." Optimus smiled at him. "Jazz said you were in the rec room."

He nodded slowly, feeling that falling-into-a-rabbit-hole sensation for the umpteenth time. Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, was sitting at a table with him, and concerned for his welfare. "I ... don't feel any loyalty to Megatron. Not after what they did. I didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea about me."

"Hmmm." Optimus smiled. "You were talking cultures with Skyfire?"

"A little."

"So what do you think are the differences?" Optimus said, with what sounded like real interest.

Nobody _ever _asked him questions like that. Even his bondmates hadn't asked for his opinion on matters such as this. If it was a social issue, Ravage was the one who gave the best advice. None of them were really interested in anything beyond practical matters like who was pissed off at who or how to avoid angering a particular mech. Beyond the bond, he'd had a reputation as a nasty little fragger with an attitude all out of proportion to his size ... and not much in the way of intelligence.

He wondered briefly if the question were loaded. Was Optimus trying to trap him into saying something damning, or stupid? Perhaps trying to make him look foolish?

Well, he _wasn't _stupid. And he knew how to flatter with the best of them, when it served his purposes. He said, in as innocent a tone as he could manage, "Autobots get along with each other better, and trust each other more. The reason is a difference in management styles, from the top down. You promote harmony and teamwork as a way to win battles. Megatron believes that the best way to identify the best warriors, and harden them for combat, is to encourage competition and a certain degree of infighting."

The look that Optimus gave him was well and truly surprised. Skyfire sounded a tad skeptical when he said, "Is that something Soundwave observed?"

He had actually come up with that on his own. However, maybe it was best if they assumed him to be a little on the slow side. He nodded, and added, "Telepath. Err, he was. He had pretty good insight into people."

The truth was, _Ravage _had good insight into people. Soundwave tended to be a little confused by conflicting emotions from others. Being able to read someone's feelings and thoughts, and understanding why they responded that way, were two different things. Soundwave quite frequently asked Ravage for assistance in puzzling out a political problem or understanding a social situation.

Most of his lifetime had been spent listening in on Soundwave and Ravage discussing the finer points of Decepticon command decisions. Neither of them strictly agreed with Megatron's approach to leadership, though it worked well enough from a practical standpoint - they could get all their weapons aimed in the same direction, and the Decepticon army hadn't yet dissolved into chaos.

"I see." Optimus smiled at him.

He tried to figure out if that was a patronizing smile, or a benevolent smile. He couldn't decide. Impulsively, he added, "I think the reason you've managed to fight the 'cons to a standstill with half the forces that we - they - have is that you encourage everyone to work together. That's what I think. And your people are more loyal. They'll die for you. Not many 'cons will die for Megatron. They fight because they like to fight, or because they're more afraid of the officers than they are of Autobots."

Optimus nodded slowly. "You pay attention to a lot of what goes on around you, don't you?"

"It was my job." He wondered if Optimus's words were some form of oblique criticism. He wished for Ravage again. Ravage would have a lot better understanding of what Optimus was thinking than he did. "Okay, Soundwave did the analysis, but I gotta be _some _kind of smart to know what kind of data to give him. Okay?"

"I never doubted your intelligence. Anyone who could repeatedly fool Red Alert's security systems to gain access to our base does not lack for intelligence." Optimus rested a hand on his shoulder.

_Slaggit. _He wished they'd stop pawing at him. He didn't dare shrug Optimus's hand off like he had Skyfire's.

"I understand," Optimus said, "that you are getting along rather well with Steeljaw?"

Where _was _Steeljaw? Frenzy glanced around, looking for him. Steeljaw, it turned out, was over at the energon dispenser. Eject had joined him, and Eject was standing on Steeljaw's back so that he could reach the dispenser's nozzle. They were filling cubes up. "Umm, yeah. Jazz said that Ratchet talked to you 'n him."

Blue eyes studied him gravely for a long moment. "Ratchet has made a convincing argument on your behalf."

For the life of him, he just didn't understand these mechs. They were _strange_.

"Steeljaw's a good mech." Optimus watched the two cassettes at the dispenser as he spoke. "He tries so very hard to please."

"Are you mad at me?" Frenzy asked, impulsively. He didn't want Optimus angry at him.

Optimus regarded him gravely, blue eyes steady and calm. "No. Not angry, Frenzy. I am worried for you."

"What do you want out of me?" He asked, suddenly feeling a little defiant and sullen. He was tired of trying to puzzle the Autobots out. They made no sense to him at all. Now he did push Optimus's hand away, and damn the consequences. "I don't get you."

Optimus simply laid his hand down on the table. A buzz of encrypted comm discussion rose from the room, however. They were being watched, closely, by the other Autobots. Steeljaw had stopped what he was doing, and was heading in their direction with a tray holding two cubes of energon in his teeth.

"I am not even sure how to answer that," Optimus said, finally.

Skyfire said, "Frenzy, for now, perhaps it would be best if you remember that Optimus is the bearer of the Matrix of Leadership. He is altruistic to the very core of his being, both as a requirement and a consequence of the Matrix. He means only the best for you - and for all Cybertronians. It is simply how he is wired."

"Skyfire exaggerates, a bit. I am far from perfect. However, he is correct in that I wish only the best for you, as I do for all of us." Optimus glanced briefly at the approaching Steeljaw. "Steelie, will you join us, please?"

"Yes sir." Steeljaw moved smoothly up onto the table in one neat leap. He did so without spilling the energon on his tray. "Sir, have you eaten? I could get you your morning fuel too, if you'd like."

"I am fueled, but thank you." Optimus gave him a steady look. "I am given to understand that Jazz has had a discussion with you?"

"Yes, sir." Steeljaw couldn't seem to look Optimus in the eyes. "I'm sorry if I have disappointed you."

Optimus's smile was wry, surprising Frenzy. "I was young once too, Steeljaw. I am also optimistic that this may yet work out for the best. If it does not ... we will deal with it when it comes."

Frenzy did _not _want to think about it not working out. That was too close to his own fears of being very, very alone.

Prime said something additional to Steeljaw with a very encrypted comm transmission. Steeljaw looked up in surprise, and a smile touched his mouth. "Thank you, sir, for that faith in me."

"Frenzy," Optimus said, "Ratchet tells me that First Aid should be done with Soundwave around noon. I would like you to help me with some paperwork until then, and run some errands."

"Yes sir." Nervous dismay made him fidget in place.

"Unless you would prefer to wait in Ratchet's room ..."

"No!" He shook his head. "Ratchet's recharging now, right? I'd haveta be quiet. And I'd just be sitting there and I really, kinda, don't want to sit alone right now."

"I could sit with him ..." Steeljaw offered.

"I believe you have a normal duty shift coming up, Steeljaw, and we're short on staff. We can't excuse you again without having someone pull a double."

"Yes sir." He turned briefly to Frenzy, and said, "I'll see you later, Frenzy."

_Don't leave! _He wanted to wail. However, Steeljaw swiftly finished his cube and headed for the door after Optimus dismissed him. He was left between the intimidating dignity of Optimus, and the enormous bulk of Skyfire.

Frenzy regarded the second cube of energon on the tray. Ratchet had given him a ration earlier. He never turned fuel down, and his fuel consumption was up as his auto-repair was still working on the damage from a few days before. On the other hand, he didn't want to get in trouble. He finally asked Optimus, "Sir, Steeljaw didn't know this - I'd already had a cube earlier. I don't want to take more than my share."

Optimus's smile was genuinely bright. "Thank you for being considerate, Frenzy. You're on unlimited rations for the next few days due to your injuries. We are, as you might imagine, a little short on fuel, but not so much that we can't spare extra for those with damage that need to autorepair. If you have room in your tank, you may fill up at need."

"Oh." He didn't have to be told twice, and he grabbed for the cube, half afraid Optimus would change his mind.

"Slow down," Skyfire advised, sounding amused. "You're going to get fuel in your air intakes if you drink it that fast."

* * *

"Frenzy," Optimus said, after his office doors swished shut behind them. He indicated his desk as he sat down. "Come here a second."

"I wanted it!" He started to protest, for what felt like the millionth time. And he still wanted it, though he'd have settled for Steeljaw standing next to him right now. Optimus was slagging intimidating.

Optimus quirked an optic ridge upwards. "That is good to hear. However, I was simply going to show you the paperwork I need done. Your hands are small enough to use a human pen."

"... oh." He felt incredible stupid, which annoyed him.

Optimus produced a box of forms, and a package of pens. He set both down on the table, and said, "Sparkplug and Spike help with this, but they've both been busy."

He peered into the box. It appeared to be full of invoices for parts and supplies. Someone had gone through the invoices, checking off and verifying that the purchased widgets were received, except for a few that had notes on them that things _weren't _received.

"Shipping and receiving?" He gave Optimus an incredulous look.

"There's a telephone on the shelf," Optimus indicated a land line phone, almost lost among a stack of data pads far bigger than it was. "I need you to call the distributors and follow up on the orders that were missing part."

"Tedious," he grumbled.

"Yes." Optimus rested his hand on Frenzy's back. He crouched, and looked at Frenzy, optics concerned. Frenzy started to shove his hand away reflexively, but the look on Optimus's face stopped him. "I thought you might like a distraction. I do need you to be polite and professional. Can you do this? I know you can be _impolite, _but I've also seen you show some remarkable self control. I thought this might be easier for you than working alone on maintenance today, or doing nothing."

"... Yeah." He looked away from the grave blue glow of Optimus's gaze. "Thank you."

Optimus squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "I admire your bravery, Frenzy. May I lift you up to the phone?"

He nodded, his vocalizer somehow frozen with a fierce stab of grief. It was strange how the sympathy of others seemed to validate his own pain, and magnify it. Optimus gently picked him up while he was still rendered mute, and set him down on the shelf. He finally managed, "... thank you. Umm, you're not what I was expecting."

"I believe that feeling is mutual." Optimus rubbed his back for a second, then returned to his desk.

* * *

_He has so much potential, _Optimus thought, as he listened to Frenzy talk to a distributor. He was more than a little impressed with Frenzy's ability to deal with mundane aggravations with tact, given his likely mood - and his history.

They'd only received half the amount of argon they'd ordered, and no helium, from this particular seller. Frenzy was handling the call with aplomb, and a surprising amount of tact, with fluid and fluent English. _He is capable of being far more than just a warrior, _Optimus thought, a smile touching his mouth.

Frenzy, Soundwave's minion, had doubtless been exposed to Decepticon politics for thousands of years. Since Frenzy's behavior would have directly reflected on Soundwave, Optimus had suspected that he would have learned to behave appropriately under stress - or risk Soundwave's wrath. This was proof.

The supplier was being stubborn, too. They'd paid a week ago for several tanks of the badly needed gases for welding, and the materials had yet to be delivered. First the excuse was that their truck was broken down, and when Frenzy had pointed out that this was a completely solvable problem given that they were selling to Cybertronians, they'd found other excuses. Optimus suspected that they were out of tanks and didn't want to admit it, because that would mean refunding a few thousand dollars.

Frenzy completed the call, apparently without a resolution by his irritated expression. He glanced over at Optimus, then rolled his optics and held up the handset. "It would be easier just to steal what you need from their warehouse, you know. Give me a lift and I'll get it for you tonight."

"We do _not _steal." He pretended shock. The kid was joking, which made Optimus quite happy to hear. Then, when Frenzy gave him a wide-eyed and worried look, he said in as dry a tone as he could manage, "However, if they do not ship the parts by tomorrow, I may give you a lift to their office during business hours. Your mere presence would doubtless convince them to expedite the order."

Frenzy giggled, eyes lighting up in delight that Optimus was bantering with him. "You're on, boss."

Then ... something shifted in his expression. His mouth pressed together in a thin line, and he turned back to his stack of calls, looking grim again.

Ratchet had said, _He's hurting so bad, Optimus. We have to give him reasons to live or he'll find reasons to die. If he's found a reason in Steeljaw, I cannot in good conscience take that hope, that attachment, away from him._

Optimus didn't like it. A relationship that started in the way that theirs was, he thought, almost certainly doomed to fail. This was particularly true when one partner was emotionally unstable, and there were so many real issues that would crop up between them. He worried that, if and when Frenzy's nascent relationship with Steeljaw fell apart, the kid would be doubly devastated. His mental state might be worse than simply grief and guilt, if heartbreak were also involved.

It would be very easy to dismiss Frenzy as just another Decepticon. If he chose to die of his grief, some Autobots would say who cared? He'd chosen to be a 'con in the first place, and had gotten what he deserved. Optimus had heard those sentiments many times.

For him, Frenzy represented something bigger than just one small, devastated mech. In Frenzy, or more specifically in finding the ability within himself to care for a _Decepticon_, Optimus found hope for the future. Someday the war would be over, and they would be one people again. Then, they would need to learn to live together once more. Frenzy - and Soundwave - were reminders of this.

His troops needed the reminder, too. And so Optimus was leading by example, pointedly and personally treating Frenzy well. It was easier than he had expected. Frenzy, it turned out was likable.

And he was hurting so very badly.

It was easy to respond to that pain with sympathy and concern. Easy to see him as just a troubled youth, not a 'con. It wouldn't be easy for some of the others, but Optimus would work on them.

Impulsively, Optimus rose. _He needs to have something to live for, _Ratchet had said. It would be a struggle, but he wanted to try to integrate Frenzy into the base's daily life. He would give Frenzy a place where he belonged, where he was valued and cared for, with friends of his own.

Frenzy looked up as he approached, visibly tensing and putting the phone's handset down on the receiver. Optimus crouched to be on eye level with him, and rested a hand on Frenzy's shoulder. "Frenzy, you're doing a good job. Thank you. Would you like to spend a few hours helping me every morning?"

Frenzy grinned. The tension faded from his small body. Relief showed, probably in reaction to Optimus's honest affirmation that he was doing his job properly. "Sure, boss," he said, "Be happy to."

"Excellent."

And then Ratchet pinged him. Optimus answered, a bit chidingly, _:Ratchet, you should still be recharging.:_

_:I got a few hours. Send the kid on over. 'Aid's done.:_

.

* * *

Soundwave came to awareness slowly. At some point, he registered that he was probably partially sedated, because his thoughts were slow and his sensors fogged.

He reached out for Frenzy across their bond, trying for words at first. He was able to generate only static, and he got a blat of static back in response. He onlined his vocalizer, with the same results, though the static that answered him came from multiple voices this time.

When he booted his optics up he found that Ratchet was standing next to the bed, watching him with warm blue optics. The medic looked haggard, his handsome features drawn and tired. They overworked him, Soundwave thought, which would make his goal of becoming the medic's assistant all that much easier. He needed help that he didn't have.

How long had he been out?

He couldn't read his chrono. It could have been hours, or years, that he had been out of commission.

Abruptly, he remembered the reason for his period of stasis.

He remembered the crash.

Terror.

He remembered _Ratchet,_ hacking him. He remembered fighting back. He remembered fierce, terrible fear.

He started to shrink away, fear overriding dignity.

More memories flooded back. He remembered the feel of Ratchet's very spark. Kind. Competent. Assertive. Brave. Bold.

His fear faded as he remembered what Ratchet had felt like. They had been deeply connected. Before he'd lost consciousness, Ratchet had lowered his firewalls to win Soundwave's trust. It had been a risky, reckless move, and it said an amazing amount about the medic's character. He cared, truly and deeply, about others ... and he had the power, the authority, the strength of character and of convictions, to back that caring up.

Soundwave shut his optics off. He'd worked for a lot of masters over his lifetime. His number one priority had always been to find someone with _power_. It had always been a pragmatic decision on his part. He'd been insignificant and inconsequential once in his life, and it had cost him everything. He had resolved never to be in that position again.

He'd never met a mech like Ratchet who was in a position of power. It was new. Different. He wasn't sure what to make of it, or how, precisely, to approach Ratchet. He'd thought the mech a sucker, but he wasn't naive or foolish. He cared, but he had the power, position, and confidence to back that caring up with real authority. He could _afford _kindness.

A warm, firm, capable hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed, then stroked his plating in a purely platonic manner. Then something was pressed into his hand. He realized it was his visor, and he reached up to put it in place.

Only when his expression was safely hidden behind visor and mask again did he risk a look at the medic. Ratchet had moved a bit away, and was fiddling with a display for something. He realized, belatedly, that he was still hooked up to a host of machines. A quick survey of the shelf beside the bed told him he had a spark monitor connected to his chassis, as well as several other devices. When he traced the lines to his body, he realized a port had been permanently installed just below his clavicle strut, and the wires were plugged in to it.

He poked at it. It appeared one of the devices was monitoring his power plant, and another his energon tank levels. A third showed a multitude of other readings - probably pressure in his hydraulics and temperatures and voltage and the like. Were they really necessary?

Ratchet caught his hand, and shook his head firmly, warning him to either not touch it or not disconnect it. He wasn't sure which. He wasn't stupid enough to pull the wires out, but he wondered why he was connected to monitors. Apparently, the medic thought they were necessary. He'd figure the reasons out later. It didn't seem important right now.

Just how close had he come to dying?

He realized he was probably still quit sedated, or possibly the medic had installed some restrictive emotional coding. He should be more upset than he was.

He reached up and discovered he had wires connected to his cranial case, and likely hardwired into his processor. There was another new port just below his jaw.

Ratchet grabbed his hand this time, fingers very firm. He shook his head, then pointed. Soundwave saw that the wires ran to a datapad on a bedside table. Hope flared. Had they figured out a way to connect a hard line into his processor, perhaps to bypass his damaged connections? He couldn't think of a way to make that work, but Ratchet was reputed to make miracles happen.

Ratchet handed him the datapad. His spirits plummeted when he couldn't read the words. However, by the steady pattern of lines of data that were ticking by, he suspected that Ratchet was monitoring the stability of his operating system in real time.

He had suffered a cascade failure. They were almost certainly watching for early signs of a repeat of the problem. He should have died ... he'd known he was dying when the errors had begun. He had not wanted to die, for he would take Frenzy with him when he went.

He was amzed that Ratchet had rebuilt his code the hard way, after connecting through the _damaged _connections to his language processor. Very few medics would have had the knowledge, clock speed, and creative problem solving abilities to do so. He was good with code, but that would have been beyond his ability to do alone.

He glanced over at Frenzy. Frenzy was curled in a ball in the chair, radiating waves of abject misery across the bond. The kid met his gaze, then glanced sharply away. Frenzy felt like he was partially blocking his feelings, but he could still detect nearly overpowering levels of guilt, worry-fear, and miserable confusion. Mixed in with that was aching emptiness and desperate loneliness.

The kid had so very much to live for. Soundwave knew he should be more alarmed by the emotions coming from his symbiont than he was. He was _definitely _sedated with something pretty potent.

Ratchet said something to Frenzy. Frenzy shook his head slowly. Soundwave watched with passive interest as Ratchet crouched down next to him and spoke quietly for a moment. Frenzy finally let Ratchet pick him up, and Ratchet lifted him up to the medical berth next to Soundwave.

He should have been embarrassed to want to hold Frenzy like a sparkling. Whatever the medic had done to him had stripped that away, too, and he didn't even care. He reached out and wrapped his arms around his last, lone, precious symbiont and pulled him into a tight embrace. Frenzy was his, and he would do pretty much anything to heal the hurt in his spark.

Frenzy was stiff, resistant, for a bit. Slowly, he relaxed, however. After a bit, Frenzy put his head down on Soundwave's chest and just lay there, systems slowing down as his emotional state eased. Soundwave could feel just a little of the hurt fade.

_I'm here, _he thought. _Soundwave will not leave you too._

He would not leave if he had any choice in the matter. He'd fight Unicron himself to keep Frenzy safe. Aside from his core programming - he was hard coded to protect his symbionts - Frenzy was really all he had left in the world.

Given the way that Frenzy was now clinging to him, maybe Frenzy felt the same way.

He stroked Frenzy's back. After a bit, he felt his systems begin to power down. He let recharge take him, too passive to fight it.

* * *

When he woke again, he knew immediately that the drugs were ... less.

He had no idea what time it was. That alone made him anxious.

Frenzy had his head resting on Soundwave's shoulder, but he was still awake. The kid felt hungry, and his emotions were still awful - dark, aching, lonely - but the searing guilt and grief of earlier had abated. He didn't know how long he'd been in recharge, but it had been long enough that Frenzy needed to refuel.

He didn't seem to be running low, which was odd. Had Ratchet fueled him up while he was out? No ... he couldn't tell if he was full _or _empty. He couldn't ping his tank or power cells.

_Sensors, damaged, _he realized, grimly. His energy gauge was apparently not working right. He probably did need energon. He wondered if the Autobots had enough to spare.

He pushed himself upright, ignoring the spinning of the room. The bank of monitors he was connected to probably included a display for his fuel status. It suddenly felt very urgent to know his energy level. That was so basic, so critical, and he couldn't read it! He wrapped an arm around Frenzy to support him so he wouldn't slide off as he moved.

Frenzy winced, drawing his legs up. The flash of minor pain from his symbiont was unexpected, and highly suspicious given the location. He forgot about fuel, and turned his full attention on Frenzy ... whose sense of guilt had intensified tenfold.

There were no secrets between bonded mechs, normally. However, he had been unconscious - in profound stasis lock, likely - for an undetermined length of time. He honestly didn't know if he'd been offline for hours or years. Frenzy had been freshly painted the last time he'd seen him, with gleaming, richly layered blue, by a master artist. He'd looked better than he had in years. Soundwave kept his symbionts as waxed and clean as he could, but it had been awhile since he'd had the time and resources to paint them himself.

Frenzy's paint job still looked great, but it was scratched in places. Grimly, fear twisting his spark in whole new ways, Soundwave studied the damage. It was distinctive. Mechs who had an active interface life learned to buff those sorts of scratches out, but Frenzy hadn't done so, either because he didn't have the supplies or was too depressed to care. The insides of his thighs, his chestplates, and his forearms were scuffed and scraped.

That, alone, would not have been damning, but there were scratches on his interface cover.

Still not proof, but when Soundwave looked down at the dome of metal between Frenzy's legs, Frenzy's anxiety peaked and he tensed. As he tensed, another spike of pain crossed the bond. His guilt and shame intensified, and he wouldn't look at Soundwave.

The reason for Frenzy's bleak mood was suddenly crystal clear. He'd been hurt. The guilt, the shame, the anger, the way he kept curling in on himself, into a tight ball of misery... it was all too damning ... while Soundwave had been helpless and unconscious someone had _hurt _him.

Anger roared through his systems. Frenzy recoiled from him in shock, fear in his optics.

He was going to _kill _whoever had touched his symbiont. He wanted to _end _them.

Frenzy violently struggled free, clawing and kicking. He tried to keep his grip, but the kid terrified. Frenzy thrashed free and scrambled across the room to the door. It slid open and Frenzy bolted ... straight into Ratchet's legs.

He could hear Frenzy sobbing something at Ratchet, his emotions a wild whirl of fear and anger and terrible, terrible guilt. Ratchet growled something. Frenzy calmed a bit, crossing his arms over his chassis and looking sullen. Both of them glanced up at him.

He started to struggle to his feet, fully intending to track down the slagger and turn him to scrap. Someone had touched his symbiont!

Ratchet brushed Frenzy out of the way and efficiently shoved Soundwave back to the berth. Soundwave fought for a moment, but he was so uncoordinated he couldn't win. He subsided, recognizing a losing battle even through his fury.

The medic pointed imperiously at all the machinery that Soundwave was hooked up to. Then he produced a pair of restraint cuffs from his subspace and held them up. The message was clear. Soundwave would find himself restrained if he didn't stay put. Frustrated, he pointed at Frenzy and _growled_, inarticulate rage that needed no language to convey.

Frenzy spun around and ran with a sob.

Ratchet's look was scathing, and aimed squarely at him. The medic just stood there, glaring at him, for several minutes.

Did the medic know what had happened to Frenzy? Did he care? Soundwave tried to sit up, at least, and Ratchet held the restraint cuffs up again. Soundwave pointed after Frenzy desperately. He didn't want Frenzy out of his sight. He could feel Frenzy's upset, slowly subsiding but being replaced with anger.

Ratchet sighed heavily and walked over to the monitors. He studied them for a minute, then started disconnecting equipment. After a minute, Soundwave was left with one datapad hooked to the port on his shoulder. Ratchet then helped Soundwave sit up and, to Soundwave's indignation, manually popped his chest plate latches.

Soundwave tried to shove him away, objecting. He didn't know what Ratchet wanted. Ratchet simply caught one hand and gave him a pointed glare. Soundwave could have argued, but he thought Ratchet was going to let him up. He decided to let Ratchet get whatever he wanted to do, done.

Ratchet simply attached the datapad to the inside of his armor with a magnet after slipping the cable in through a seam. Soundwave realized, belatedly, that Ratchet probably didn't want to risk him falling on it.

The medic then hauled him to his feet. He stood, swaying, waiting for the dizziness to fade a bit. It wasn't as bad as when he'd first been injured, but it was still disorienting. After it was clear he wasn't going to topple to the ground, Ratchet guided him towards the door.

His initial impulse to kill the fragger who'd hurt Frenzy was still strong, but his logic was returning. He didn't know who'd done it. Size wasn't necessarily a limiting factor; there were any number of ways mechs with a significant size mismatch could interface. He couldn't just go tearing out of the med bay, scan the minds of every Autobot he came across, and then terminate the culprit ... he was crippled, wounded, unable to fight.

Ratchet maneuvered him through the doorway and out into the main med bay. Frenzy was standing with his back to them, staring blankly at the wall, arms folded and shoulders hunched. He looked - and felt - miserable, in a multitude of ways.

He tried to call out to him, but managed only to make the usual inarticulate staticky noises. Frenzy flinched, his guilt intensifying. That was wrong ... why did Frenzy feel guilty? What had happened was not his fault.

Ratchet lowered him into a chair, and walked over to Frenzy. He crouched, and said something to him that sounded a little sharp. Frenzy shook his head viciously, looking defiant and sullen and angry. Ratchet snapped a snarky comment at him. Frenzy threw his hands in the air. Soundwave tensed. Ratchet looked annoyed, then visibly forced himself to show sympathy - Soundwave could see it was a bit of an effort.

The med bay doors slid open, admitting an knee-high feline symbiont. Steeljaw moved with easy and relaxed grace. He stopped short, however, when he saw Frenzy.

Frenzy saw _him ... _and Soundwave's world shifted on its axis. Frenzy's emotions changed, from angst to relief. He ducked past Ratchet, dodging an attempt to grab his arm with graceful ease. Frenzy stopped a few feet from Steeljaw, and Soundwave detected hesitation and longing. His loneliness was less, his guilt, more.

_Oh, Primus._

Soundwave fought down fierce emotions of his own that had replaced the anger at the unknown - and, if he was reading the situation right - nonexistent rapist. Dark jealousy, bitterness, and impotent rage at fate swirled through his spark, making Frenzy flinch and look back at him.

Frenzy was _his_. He'd given the twins their freedom, and they had come back to him of their own free will. He had formed a bond with them on a day full of hope and optimism for the future, grateful that he had found two more souls he could utterly trust. He'd had utter faith that Frenzy would be his until the day one of them died, and then perhaps even beyond ... Frenzy was _his_.

His symbiont glanced at him, looking miserable. The guilt was back, stronger than ever.

Symbionts were hard wired to bond with strong, competent, powerful mechs. They had evolved that way; survival of the fittest included surviving because one's _carrier _was the fittest. Usually, a bond was for life, but not always - self preservation was a factor. It was _not _unheard of for a symbiont to break a bond if a carrier became unable to protect and care for them.

Aside from needing to bond to the strongest carrier he could find, Frenzy was also desperately lonely. Soundwave could feel that in his spark. He'd been bound to his twin from creation, and bonded to his other bond-siblings and Soundwave from a very young age. However, Frenzy was now effectively alone in his head.

Frenzy was now staring at Steeljaw, standing several feet from him, and hugging himself. Steeljaw had sat down on his haunches, and regarded Frenzy with his head tilted to one side, as if trying to puzzle him out. Steeljaw said something that made Frenzy shift uneasily from foot to foot. Soundwave watched helplessly, feeling the longing in Frenzy's spark.

There _was _another carrier on the base. Blaster was battle hardened, well ranked, and clearly capable of protecting his own band. In Blaster, Frenzy would get a kind, supportive master ... one who would even be a better match for Frenzy's personality, if Soundwave were honest with himself. He knew his normally cool, logical personality sometimes clashed with Frenzy's tendency to think with his emotions first. Under the guidance of a master like Blaster, Frenzy would truly flourish.

Along with Blaster, Frenzy would also get a pack of siblings much like the ones he'd lost. He had to be missing them fiercely. Blaster's symbionts couldn't replace Soundwave's other cassettes, but they could provide the companionship, support, and _family _that he had to be missing.

And Frenzy might have been a 'con since before the war began, but he also had a substantial number of valuable skills. He was very good fighter, had considerable practical knowledge of communications engineering and repair, and he was a better than average programmer and hacker. He was likable; despite his well deserved reputation for a hot temper, he could be charming and sociable.

And, very clearly, he was already getting along well with at least one of Blaster's symbionts.

He watched, clenching his jaw, fists balling, as Steeljaw rose and took three steps closer to Frenzy. The feline cassette leaned against Frenzy's chest, optics closing, body relaxed with trust and affection. Frenzy's mood shifted again, even as he put his arms around Steeljaw's neck. The guilt was stronger, the worry more intense. He stared up at Soundwave with wide optics.

The guilt made sense, now. Soundwave guessed that Frenzy was thinking of breaking the bond. It would be a good, logical, if cold-sparked, decision for Frenzy to make. Blaster would surely take him. It wasn't like a symbiont could hide anything from a carrier. The Autobots would not need to fear betrayal from Frenzy. It would be a good life for Frenzy, as Blaster's symbiont.

The sense of betrayal, of jealous anger and possession, shook him. Frenzy was his. He would _not _let some Autobot take Frenzy away from him. And he wasn't about to let some strange symbiont lure Frenzy away.

He had just plain had enough.

He lunged with a wordless, inarticulate snarl at Steeljaw, intending to wrest him from Frenzy's grasp and quite possibly shred him limb from limb. He expected Frenzy to dodge out of the way. Instead, Frenzy shoved Steeljaw back, and got between Soundwave and Steeljaw. Frenzy was screaming something unintelligible at him, spark boiling with fury and hurt and a sense of outraged betrayal.

He couldn't keep his balance and he went crashing to the ground. He scrambled back to his hands and knees, trying to lunge again before the pit slagging medic could stop him, before Steeljaw could get away. He would _not _let this happen. Frenzy was _his_! Frenzy was all he had left in the universe.

Frenzy boldly stomped closer, gesticulating with his hands. When Ratchet tried to move closer, Frenzy shouted something rude at him. Ratchet stopped. Frenzy continued his tirade at Soundwave. The meaning of his words were both incomprehensible, and very clear. He was pissed. He stomped his foot. He pointed at Steeljaw. He balled his fists and leaned forward and yelled some more.

Steeljaw, behind Frenzy, met his gaze. He got the strangest impression that he was being sized up, as if the other mech could see clear through to his spark. And then Steeljaw calmly moved forward, up behind Frenzy, and pressed his head between Frenzy's shoulders. He gave a gentle push, encouraging Frenzy to step forward towards Soundwave.

Confusion shot through Frenzy, mirroring Soundwave's own reaction. However, prodded by Steeljaw, Frenzy walked to within touching range of Soundwave. He wanted to grab his symbiont, but he forced himself to simply reach out, holding his hand out, palm up, as if coaxing a wild thing back to him.

Frenzy glanced from his hand up to his optics, and then back down. Then he rested a small hand in the middle of Soundwave's palm. He was so guilt-ridden, so terribly miserable, so _furious_, that Soundwave reached out with his other hand and hesitatingly and awkwardly stroked Frenzy's arm. He wished he could make it all better, but nothing in the world could bring back everything they'd lost.

Steeljaw quietly leaned against Frenzy's back, and raised his foot to Frenzy's shoulder. The paw transformed into fingers and he stroked Frenzy's other arm. Frenzy calmed a bit, and glanced back at the other cassette.

A low curl of _desire _rose amid his feelings. There was desire, and longing, and a fondness that verged on real love. Soundwave's hand stilled. Frenzy was so unhappy, but he'd clearly found someone special in Steeljaw.

Feelings of jealousy warred with inadequacy. Confusing him further, he _was _pleased that Frenzy had found some small shred of happiness. Frenzy was a social mech, and he _needed _friends. He'd worried that, as misft as they were on a base amid Autobots, that Frenzy would be incredibly lonely and friendless.

He wondered again how long he'd been in stasis.

He wondered what would happen to him.

Was he repairable? Would he auto-repair again? He didn't know. Clearly, his language centers were disconnected from his sensors again. He might never regain the ability to speak, to understand.

Frenzy said something, very low, to Steeljaw, flickers of worry and fear in his spark. Steeljaw rubbed his back, then stepped boldly around Frenzy and he, too, put his hand in the middle of Soundwave's palm. Deep blue optics searched his visor'd faceplates, though Steeljaw certainly couldn't read anything of Soundwave's expression.

A few days ago, he would have been horrified by the thought of his symbiont in any sort of a relationship with an Autobot - particularly another carrier's cassette. Frenzy was relaxing, however, and there was clearly trust between them. He felt better. He felt good enough that, for the first time, Soundwave had real hope that Frenzy might truly be okay someday.

At the same time, he was terribly afraid he might lose Frenzy to Blaster, if Frenzy found a partner in Steeljaw.

He was even more afraid that might be the best thing for Frenzy.

He couldn't bear to feel Frenzy so miserable.

He wished he could tell Steeljaw what he was thinking: that he'd accept their relationship, whatever it was, so long as Steeljaw didn't hurt Frenzy. He'd rend Steeljaw limb from limb and damn the consequences if the Autobot betrayed Frenzy in any way.

All he could do, however, was simply nod to Steeljaw. He then reached up, caught the edge of the closest medical berth with one hand, and heaved himself, swaying and unsteady, to his feet. Ratchet ducked in to try to support him, but he waved Ratchet away.

Soundwave didn't want to lose Frenzy to the damned Autobot. That meant he needed to learn to function again. Figuring out how to walk was the first step. Communications, shortly thereafter, would need to follow.

He would _not _lose. This was a battle he would fight to the death, if need be. Frenzy was _his_.

Thus inspired, he took one shaky step away from the medical berth. The world seemed to lurch around him, rolling and spinning. He ignored that, focusing on the position of his limbs and orientation he could determine from his optics. No matter what his sense of direction told him, he disregarded it in favor of his optics.

It was _difficult_. Deeply rooted coding made him instinctively sway against the false data from his sensors. If he listened to that input, it seemed as if he was about to slam into the ground at a high rate of speed, or, alternately, fly off in zero gree. The world seemed to spin like a gyro for a moment, then flip completely upside down.

By the time he made it to the far end of the room and fetched up against Ratchet's work bench, his vents were puffing and his motor running hot. It was, apparently, hard work to override and fight against his instinctive movements. However, he'd gone a good twenty strides without falling. He turned, cautiously, to see what they thought.

Frenzy was grinning, and feeling genuine relief and happiness. The kid gave him a thumb's up as he watched. Ratchet, to his surprise, had a smile on his face as well. Ratchet had not followed him across the room, but had remained standing next to the others.

Steeljaw was leaning against Frenzy. As he watched, Frenzy brought his hand up and deliberately stroked Steeljaw's shoulder. It wasn't a pat like Frenzy might have given Ravage, but rather the caress of a lover. Frenzy's optics met his, full of challenge and defiance still.

He nodded acceptance, and let that feeling cross the bond between them. He had no other choice. If Frenzy had found a lover, he would be foolish to stand in their way.

Frenzy reacted with relief. There was still guilt there, and miserable sadness, but Soundwave could feel the potential for healing in his spark. Frenzy would be okay.

He just refused to lose him.

Resolutely, he started back across the room. He'd practice walking until he mastered it, and then proceed from there. He would _not _be a cripple and he would _not _lose his symbiont because he was an unfit carrier.

He would recover.

He would be useful.

He would not lose this battle.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

* * *

Author's notes: I'm sorry for the slowness between updates. I'm working mandatory overtime at my day job, and have a side business, and between the two, I have no time to breath, much less write much. I haven't abandoned this story - or Masks! - but updates will be very slow for the next couple of months. 

* * *

Blaster stepped through the doorway of the quarters he shared with his symbionts, and smiled faintly. Steeljaw was sprawled out on the couch, head on his paws, radiating discontent. Eject was using his brother's side for a backrest as he played video games, and Ramhorn was asleep on the ground beside them. He knew that neither of them was oblivious to Steeljaw's mood, but also that Steelie wasn't likely to talk to them. He wished Steeljaw would confide in the others more, rather than holding himself just a little aloof.

_:Steelie,: _he said, _:what's wrong?:_

It had taken quite a lot to get Steeljaw to trust _him _enough to easily confide in him. The aloofness, the dignity, was a facade behind which lurked a complete world of damage. He'd healed well, over the centuries in Blaster's care, but the scars were there, and would always remain.  
_  
:Soundwave got upset when we tried to leave. Frenzy decided to stay with him until he's in recharge.: _A terse explanation, but it made sense. _:He'll be by later. Umm. We were hoping for a little privacy. If that's okay.:_  
_  
_The Ark had never been intended to house as many mechs as lived here now. They were tight for space, and privacy was at a premium. Steeljaw was asking if they could make themselves scarce for a few hours - which Blaster didn't have a problem with. sat down on the couch next to them, and rested a hand comfortingly on Steeljaw's shoulders. _:I'll make sure the others stay away until at least midnight. And I note Frenzy seems pretty tight with Soundwave. I'm a bit surprised that Soundwave's worried - unless he's concerned about safety?:_

:I think Soundwave's afraid we're going to steal him away.:

:Do you think Frenzy would be interested?: Blaster wasn't sure what to think of that. He didn't like Soundwave, for any multitude of reasons, and couldn't help but wonder if Frenzy would be better off with someone else - though not necessarily him. He already had six symbionts, and integrating a seventh into his team wasn't a headache he was especially looking for. His first priority was the welfare of the symbionts he already had. He would consider it if Frenzy had no other options, but he wasn't actively looking to steal Frenzy away.

_:I doubt he's even thinking of that. He's loyal. Not unless Soundwave died, and even then, he'd feel like he was betraying his memory. We'd have a fight on our hands to convince him to join us.: _Steeljaw lifted his head up and glanced at Blaster. _:You would consider it, right?:_

Blaster sighed. Steeljaw clearly liked the idea a lot better than he did. He needed to talk to the rest of his team about what-ifs. Steelie and Eject would be fine with it, and Rewind probably wouldn't care, but the others might be reluctant, at best. _:I don't know. I don't know Frenzy well enough. I'd ... think about it. The harmony between the rest of you lot comes first.:_

:Fair enough.:

:Steelie,: Blaster hesitated, choosing his words carefully, _:I know you like him, but please be careful. I don't want you hurt.:_

Steeljaw lifted his head up and looked Blaster squarely in the optics for a second. The bond between them was wide open, letting him truly feel Steeljaw's emotions as Steeljaw said, _:I hope he can be what I want in a partner, Blaster. There are very few mechs in this universe who would consider me. However, I know that right now, it is far too soon to consider such things, or even discuss them with him.:_

:I just don't want you to get your spark broken.: He was concerned that the amount of hope, and desire, that Steeljaw felt was unhealthy, possibly for both of them. There was a difference between a good frag with a casual lover and _bonding_. There was also a distinct difference between a partner bond and a sibling bond between symbionts, but Steeljaw had to factor in his brothers' opinions (and Blaster's!) because they _would _be inextricably tied through him to Frenzy should they form a partner bond.

At least, Blaster thought, he trusted Steeljaw's judgment when it came to relationships. Steelie was a smart mech, and not overly prone to acting on impulse. He wouldn't do anything stupid. Had it been Eject who was getting his circuits blown by a recently defected 'con, Blaster would have been a hell of a lot more worried.  
_  
:I think that a broken spark will be inevitable if I don't make this work.: _Steeljaw sat up, making Eject squawk a protest as his 'backrest' moved. Steelie scooted forward to lean against Blaster's chest, then reached a paw out and encouraged Eject to slide over and curl up against his side with a gentle tug on his arm. Eject returned to his game with a huff after repositioning himself. Steeljaw relaxed a bit when Blaster draped an arm around him. _:But I also think it's worth taking the chance on him.:_

:... Steeljaw.: Blaster sighed. _:I hope it works out. I really do.:_

:Me too.: Steeljaw shifted his weight a little bit, apparently to make a better backrest for Eject, who was squirming absently, as if he wasn't quite comfortable. Eject was focused on his video game and oblivious, perhaps deliberately, to the conversation. Steeljaw asked, _:If ... if it did work out, would you be okay with it? If we ... you know.:_

:You still can't talk about bonding easily, can you?: Blaster said, gently, pointing out one of Steeljaw's weaknesses.

_:No.: _Steeljaw met Blaster's gaze, unhappily. Blaster remembered just how hard he'd had to work to convince Steeljaw that bonding with a new carrier was worth it. Steeljaw had been wary, to say the least, of the idea.

_:Frenzy isn't the question, it's Soundwave, from my standpoint. You need to talk this out with your brothers, though. And also discuss things with Jazz and Optimus, and allow time for Frenzy to earn their trust - if he ever can. If you decide you are serious about Frenzy, I will support you, but we need to make sure that everything is handled right.:_

:I know. It wouldn't be easy.: Steeljaw was clearly troubled by this. _:It could be an issue for Soundwave, too. He did not even like _me _touching Frenzy, and Frenzy said he was furious when he realized Frenzy had interfaced with someone. Frenzy said he was afraid that Soundwave was so angry at him he would strike him, and that he had never thought Soundwave capable of harming him before.: _

_:Ouch.: _That was troubling news. One thing carriers learned very quickly was that you didn't abuse your symbionts, ever, for any multitude of reasons. Carriers who were incapable of learning this quickly found themselves without any symbionts to abuse. _:Frenzy felt threatened?:_

:He said Soundwave was furious at him - said he was the angriest that Frenzy could remember, to the point of near violence.:

:Soundwave is not normally quick to anger.: Blaster frowned. He was worried about Steeljaw's safety, if Soundwave was reacting badly to the relationship.

_:Eh, don't worry so much, boss. We got him calmed down, and I'm a good bit faster on my feet than he is right now, if it comes to that.: _Steeljaw stretched a little, and ended up a bit more in Blaster's lap when he did so. Blaster knew that was deliberate, Steeljaw's way of asking-without-asking for snuggling. Steeljaw had come a long, long, way from the wary, frightened, defensive symbiont that Blaster had found on an alien world so long ago. However, he still had his own peculiar issues. One was that he was quick to give affection to others, almost to the point of excess, but slow to ask for himself.

He reached out and pulled Steeljaw all the way into his lap. Steeljaw tensed for a second, a flash of sorrow and anxiety spearing through his spark. Blaster sighed and stroked his head, knowing nothing he could say could make it better. _:This is really getting to you, buddy, isn't it?:_

:Yeah.: Steeljaw leaned into Blaster's touch. _:It is. - Blaster, I'm going to try to win Soundwave over. Are you okay with that?:_

:Of course.: He was a little surprised that Steeljaw even felt he needed to ask. Unlike Soundwave, he had no concerns about Steeljaw ever leaving him.  
_  
:Thank you for trusting me.: _Steeljaw pressed his head against Blaster's shoulder.

Blaster nodded, and rubbed Steeljaw's ears while pulling him tight against his chest. Steelie wouldn't allow anyone else to touch them, even his brothers. He found having his ears rubbed demeaning from anyone but his carrier, for reasons Blaster didn't entirely understand. Blaster mused, _:For this thing between you two to go anywhere, you'll need to gain Soundwave's approval. It wouldn't be fair to ask Frenzy to chose between the two of you.:_

:Thanks, Boss.:

:Mmm.: 

At that moment, Frenzy pinged them from outside the door. Eject said slyly, "Gonna score again, Steeljaw?"

"Shut up, you. Don't be crude." Steeljaw, annoyed by Eject's innuendo, shifted his weight, moving sideways and shoving Eject onto the floor in a clatter of armor.

"Three times in one night. I was impressed." Eject just laughed from his position sitting on his aft on the ground. "And never knew you to be the _catcher _before. You must _really ..._"

"Eject!" Blaster snapped. Steeljaw wasn't the only one who was irritated. Blaster grabbed Eject by the neck and shoulders and summarily hoisted him into the air. "Unless you want to spend the rest of the night in your dock, you _will _be nice."

Steeljaw was never particularly good at blocking his emotions. He got considerably worse about it when he was excited or, err, _excited_. Bonded teams generally either learned to block each other during momentary lapses caused by passion, or joined in the fun. Blaster's gang had a purely platonic relationship in that regard, and Blaster enforced good manners somewhat ruthlessly. Eject was the worst about respecting everyone's privacy and not teasing; sometimes, even Blaster found him insufferable.

Eject giggled, "Okay, okay! But teasing Steeljaw is so much fun. And it's not like I could miss what he was doing!"

Blaster couldn't detect anything from Steeljaw at all. When he _was _trying, Steeljaw was decent at keeping a firewall around his emotions. Steelie's expression was neutral, but Blaster wasn't fooled. He glared and said sharply, _:Eject, be nice. Steeljaw is sensitive about this. Can't you feel he's trying to block the pain because he wants you to see him as brave and tough? You're _upsetting _him, Eject.:_

Eject drooped.

_:Apologize.:_

"Sorry," Eject said, "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

_:He's probably not embarrassed, he's probably very insecure and you just made it worse. But that'll do for an apology for now.: _He lowered the younger mech to the ground, wishing he could give him a shake on the way to express his irritation. He didn't abuse his symbionts, ever, even when he really wanted to.

Ramhorn said sleepily, optics still firmly shut, "You know, Eject, one of these days he's going to bite you."

"I do _not _bite people," Steeljaw replied, finally bristling with indignation.

Ramhorn's amusement was bright across the bond as he heaved himself to his feet. He then herded Frenzy efficiently towards the door.

"Good evening, lover boy," Eject called, cheerful, as the door opened to reveal Frenzy.

"Don't mind him, we don't," Ramhorn shoved Eject from behind.

Blaster had never struck one of his symbionts - but if one was ever going to push him to that point, it would be Eject. He didn't even try to hide the blaze of annoyance at Eject. Eject, wisely, shut his mouth and hurried out the door without any further comments.

Frenzy blinked at the three of them as Blaster followed the other two out into the hall. Blaster held the door open for Frenzy after he'd stepped out. Frenzy's expression was utterly confused, as if he didn't know what to make of Steeljaw's siblings. Blaster told him, "Go on in_, _kiddo. We're heading down to the rec room if you want to join us later. Jazz got a movie for everybody to watch."

"Oh." Frenzy jerked his gaze upwards, looking a bit startled. He said dumbly, "Movies?"

"Later. He's just showing Speed again," Steeljaw said, voice a pleasant rumble as he padded across the room. "Come on in, Frenzy."

"That's a fun movie." Frenzy's expression lit up as Steeljaw approached. He breathed out, "But later ..."

Blaster let the door slid shut. Despite his misgivings, he couldn't help but smile as he walked down the hall. It might work out. It might not. However, Frenzy's expression and Steeljaw's matching surge of pure happiness at seeing him made Blaster optimistic.

It _would _be nice to see Steelie find someone. The young symbiont had been frustrated by a lack of suitable partners for as long as Blaster had known him. 

* * *

After the door slid shut, Steeljaw smiled wryly at Frenzy. "I love Eject to death, and there are times I'd love to delete him. You know if you're in a relationship with me, you'll have to put up with him, too."

Frenzy snorted. "Not if I kill him."

Steeljaw laughed, hearing the teasing tone in Frenzy's voice. It was good to hear him joking. He replied, "You'd have to stand in line behind half the base for the privilege."

"In that case, I'll let someone else do the dirty work. Why get in trouble if I don't have to?" Frenzy's smirk made Blaster grin back. He was still joking, and it was so _wonderful _to see.

Steeljaw closed the last few feet between them and started to lean against Frenzy, shuttering his optics as he did. He expected Frenzy to hug him. He didn't expect Frenzy to stop him with a hand under his jaw. Frenzy tilted his face up and boldly kissed him, mouth closed for a moment, but then lips parting in invitation. Frenzy pressed closer, bending over as he did, fingers curling into the seams of the armor behind Steeljaw's ears.

He was so shocked he could barely react for a moment. He certainly wasn't kissing back. Nobody had ever _wanted _to kiss him.

Frenzy stepped away, expression clouding over. Uncertainly, he said, "Steeljaw? Did I do something wrong?"

"Never been a big fan of kissing," he said, with a rough laugh. He pulled away and padded to the couch, wishing he was a little better designed for actual kissing. He might be a bit more fond of it if he wasn't so aware of how it would look to anyone who saw it. "How's your master doing?"

"He's recharging. Ratchet's keeping him a little sedated. It's easier to monitor the stability of his code if he's calm, apparently." Frenzy's tone was brusque now. He sounded hurt, which made Steeljaw wince. Perhaps he shouldn't have pulled away. Frenzy's confidence was likely zero at the moment. "I helped Ratchet set up monitoring equipment in his quarters this afternoon."

"I think Ratchet likes you." That was true enough, and an observation likely to improve his mood.

"Why is he caring so much?" Frenzy sounded simply tired, when he said this. He hadn't cheered up as Steeljaw had expected. "Soundwave is his enemy."

"It's an Autobot thing. We care, because you people don't." Steeljaw shook his head. "We have to remember what we believe in, even if that means stubbornly forgiving our enemies and caring for them even when it's reckless and foolish and naive."

He realized his mistake as soon as he saw Frenzy's optics harden. "My people, Steeljaw?"

"Poor choice of words, kiddo." He ducked his head. "Forgive me? It's hard, sometimes, to forget. We can only forgive."

"I _hate _that term, _kiddo_. You _interfaced _with me. I am _not _a child." Frenzy clearly wasn't in a forgiving mood. "You know what? I came here looking for ... I don't even know what I was looking for. First you won't kiss me, and then you call me a Decepticon and say I don't care. Primus."

"Woah, woah, woah, not what I meant, k... Frenzy." He backpedaled, both figuratively and literally, backing away from the other mech and hastily adding, "You came here looking for a friend, and I was an idiot, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Frenzy."

"Maybe I just wanted a frag." Frenzy folded his arms across his chest, sounding as defiant as he looked. "Maybe Decepticons can't be friends with Autobots."

"That would explain a heck of a lot about the war." His sarcasm clearly wasn't appreciated, because Frenzy's optics narrowed.

"I think I'm going to leave, before I get myself in trouble." Frenzy turned to do so, movements stiff and clearly angry.

"Wait!" He grabbed Frenzy's arm, awkwardly, rising up on his back legs. When Frenzy whirled, battle routines humming to life, even though he'd been completely disarmed by Ratchet. His optics dilated and he started to break free.

"Let go!"

Steeljaw kissed him. It was awkward, because he wasn't really designed for either kissing or embracing others, and because he had no practice whatsoever, but he was somewhat desperate to keep Frenzy from stalking out the door and it was the only thing he could think of. He had to rest his forearms on Frenzy's shoulders for balance, and Frenzy went rigid, then slowly relaxed. When Frenzy's fingers curled around the back of his neck, and Frenzy leaned into the embrace with a small murmur of appreciation, he knew he'd succeeded in reassuring Frenzy ... which somewhat surprised him. He'd halfway expected to be smacked across the room.

From personal past experience, he knew just how hard Frenzy could hit. Frenzy wasn't very big, but his shoulders and arms were reinforced to support his pile drivers. Even with those weapons - and weapons they were! - removed, he was still far more powerful than his size would suggest. They'd tangled a few times in battle, and he'd never expected to be _kissing _the mech who'd personally left him with plenty of dents over the course of a long, brutal war.

After a bit, he pulled back with a self-conscious chuckle. "As you can imagine, Frenzy, not many people want to kiss me. I've had my share of lovers, but it was pretty much about the kink, not about me. Sometimes I'm a little self-conscious. Okay?"

"You know you're being really stupid about that?" Frenzy poked him in the chest with a finger. "You'd have a hard time getting me t' doing something I didn't want to, Mousebreath, and I kissed you because I wanted to. Anyway. What do you want to do now? Your master mentioned a movie ..." by Frenzy's uncertain tone, he didn't really want to go watch a movie, but he was offering out of some weird sense of politeness.

"It'll keep my sibs occupied for a couple of hours. We have privacy until at least midnight." Steeljaw couldn't quite keep the smirk out of his voice. "Unless you _really _want to watch Speed."

"I've seen it. It was the Stunticon's favorite movie." Frenzy snorted a laugh at some memory, then suddenly his optics dimmed. "Rumble's, too."

Steeljaw nearly pulled away, the grief in Frenzy's expression triggering his own memories of loss. It had hurt so much to lose his first master and siblings. They had been civilians, all scientists and thinkers and dreamers. They had been so very different than the mechs he was bound to now. He missed them so badly, even though he loved his current family with fierce devotion.

He mentally shook himself a bit, and asked, "What was Rumble's favorite part?"

"All the exciting bits." Frenzy's hands had stilled on his plating. Frenzy's vocalizer hissed with static, betraying his mental state.

Steeljaw pressed a clumsy kiss to his forehead and then transformed his hands back to paws and dropped back to all fours. "C'mere." He headed for the couch. "Tell me about his favorite bits?"

While blowing Frenzy's circuits had an undeniable attraction, he knew from personal experience that it helped to talk about the ones you'd lost. Frenzy curled up next to him with a small sigh that wasn't quite a sob, and started, shakily, to describe what Rumble had liked about the movie.

Steeljaw put an arm around him, and let him talk. Frenzy rambled, telling him things about his twin beyond his taste in movies. He had only ever known Rumble as an enemy. Frenzy described the brother who had been the other half of his spark since the day they had come online.

Then, suddenly, Frenzy changed the subject with a firm, "Now you have to tell me _your _favorite movie."

Recognizing Frenzy no longer wanted to talk about his brother, perhaps because the pain had gotten to be too much, Steeljaw answered the question, "It's not an Earth movie, it's from this little world a couple light years from Nebulos - it's a love story."

Frenzy made a face. "I'm not really a love story kinda mech."

"This one's funny. And it's got a lot of action in it, too," he said, a slow grin in his voice. "The heroine reminds me a little of you."

"I am _not _a heroine." Frenzy twisted around to glare at him with affronted dignity.

"You're totally a girl."

"Am _not_."

"Everybody knows organic females are generally _far _more dangerous than the males." He turned it into a compliment.

"I'm still not a girl." Frenzy's tone turned teasing. "I could prove it to you."

Eject had been right when he'd teased Steeljaw about not being a valve mech, though he'd willingly rolled over for Frenzy the night before simply because it had felt like the right thing to do. Somehow, he hadn't minded the loss of control. He'd also said to Frenzy that he _was _willing to be spiked, which was true enough; it just wasn't his favorite way.

Now, however, with Frenzy teasing him about it, he realized that the other mech might have certain assumptions. He expected to feel dismayed, but when Frenzy rose up on his knees and leaned over Steeljaw to kiss him again, Steeljaw found a thrill of excitement flooding through his circuits. He _wanted _to feel Frenzy's weight on top of him, his slim body between Steeljaw's legs. He wanted to see the light of desire - desire for _him _- in those crimson optics.

It was different, somehow, with Frenzy. He was under no illusions that Frenzy loved him. For Frenzy, this was about banishing the sheer loneliness in his spark, about seeking comfort from another's touch and the warmth of another's systems next to his. Symbionts were not meant to ever be alone, and Steeljaw was the only person who he felt he could reach out to.

It suddenly struck him that he wouldn't mind being spiked by a lover who _loved _him. His critical self-analysis continued, and made him sigh with bitter depression. He was deluding himself, a bit, but the dynamic between Frenzy and himself was so different than anything he'd ever experienced before. It was easy to forget the truth, which was that Frenzy didn't love him and their relationship might fall apart tomorrow.

So sharp was his spike of misery at this thought that Blaster actually felt it through the connection that he was currently trying to block. Blaster's warm presence touched his spark with his carrier said, _:You okay, Steelie?:_

:Fine,: he ground out, a bit resentful of the intrusion.

_:It's my job to look out for you,: _Blaster responded, a bit sharply. _:You know how much I love you.:_

:With all due respect, please go away, Boss.: He firmly shut the bond down. Blaster had a right to be worried, but Steeljaw also figured he had a right to privacy.

"You okay?" Frenzy said.

He realized he'd never responded to Frenzy's teasing comment about proving that he wasn't a girl. He smirked and said, "So what's _wrong _with being a girl?"

"Girls are weak." The answer really should not have been unexpected, but Steeljaw also knew it wasn't really accurate.

"Hah. Tell that to Arcee."

"We don't actually _have _sexes. She just identifies as a female."

"Tell that to Carly, then." He grinned. He liked Spike's girlfriend, and not just - as she claimed - because she smelled good. "I'll be happy to help bolt you back together after she's done with you."

That got him a skeptical snort. "Squishies."

"You do understand that the humans are important, yes?" Steeljaw said, with sudden concern. "Touch them, harm them in any way, and you would regret it."

"I get it." Frenzy sounded irritated. "Don't hurt the humans. I assumed being nice to the squishies was one of the ground rules if I'm living here."

"Good." He nuzzled Frenzy's shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that. And that is _all _humans, not just our humans."

"Yeah, yeah. I have no desire to frag off you guys. I'm at your mercy."

"Okay." He nibbled at Frenzy's neck, and then said in a teasing voice, "I'd like you to be at my mercy ... preferably on your back screaming in overload."

Frenzy rose up onto his knees and rested both hands on Steeljaw's chest. "Enough talking, Mousebreath."

Steeljaw blinked at him, then let Frenzy push him backwards, so that he was lying down on the couch. Frenzy kissed his neck, and slipped his fingers through a seam in Steeljaw's armor to tease at sensors under his jaw. Steeljaw tensed nervously, unsure what Frenzy was intending, but Frenzy didn't seem to notice and kept stroking and touching, somewhat aggressively.

He'd pictured himself as the dominant partner, comforting and healing Frenzy's shattered spark. Frenzy wasn't exactly acting like the grief-stricken, broken mech that Steeljaw had formed a mental picture of. The young symbiont had a smirk on his face as he ran a hand down between Steeljaw's front legs, finding gaps in his armor and teasing sensitive wires and cables.

He honestly didn't know what to do. This wasn't how he'd pictured tonight would go. He'd intended to hold Frenzy, comfort him, reassure him, and yes, interface with him again. He'd _not _planned on Frenzy ...

... Oh, Primus.

Frenzy closed his mouth on the inside of Steeljaw's elbow, lips and glossa nimbly finding sensitive points and leaving a trail of tingling heat behind them.

Had he just groaned aloud?

Apparently, he had, because Frenzy's smirk intensifed. The pit-slagging little punk of a symbiont now had one of Steeljaw's digits in his mouth. He sucked it, glossa swirling around the joints, while meeting Steeljaw's gaze. Steeljaw's vents kicked on, as an electric jolt of energy raced through him at that smoldering look.

He wanted to fling Frenzy down to the berth and frag him offline. His spike pressurized, interface routines kicking on with startling urgency. Sheer force of stubborn will kept his interface panels closed, which wasn't exactly comfortable, but he was feeling very insecure about this whole thing. It wasn't going how he'd expected.

Frenzy grinned, clearly hearing the whine of Steeljaw's cooling systems, and oblivious to the Steeljaw's true reactions.

_Slag _he wanted to see that mech underneath him, crying out in ecstatic release. He wanted to be the one on top, pinning Frenzy down with his weight, thrusting into him until he forgot all his sorrows, coaxing Frenzy to trust him and perhaps even love him.

The smaller symbiont shifted position, sliding a hand over Steeljaw's hip, fingers exploring every seam and sensor. Steeljaw wanted to get more aggressive and take charge, but then, when Frenzy pressed a kiss to his interface panel, his fans stuttered in shock. He'd never been kissed there ... nobody had ever _wanted _to kiss him there.

"Stop ..." he reached down, trying to push Frenzy's head away. This wasn't right.

Frenzy looked up at him, eyes dim with lust, his own cooling systems whining with heated desire. "Want you ..." Frenzy murmured. "Want to frag you until you glitch."

"Wait ..."

Real hurt suddenly flickered into those gleaming red optics. Frenzy snapped with brittle anger, "I thought you wanted me!" and started to pull away.

"Just ..." he struggled for words, and reached a hand out to grab Frenzy's arm at the same time. He finally said. "Just, it's hard for me. To not be in charge."

"... Oh." Frenzy hesitated, flare of temper disappearing as quickly as it appeared. "Was I being too aggressive?"

He didn't want to see the pain in those red optics, or make Frenzy feel like he was being rejected. He moved his hand to Frenzy's jaw and stroked, careful to keep his claws tilted up and away from the sensitive, pliable metal. "I don't want a frag, Frenzy ... I want someone to make love to me. And maybe it's too early to ask that of you, but that's what I want. That's what I've been looking for, a long time. I ..."

Frenzy silenced him with a wordless kiss to the palm of his hand, then his fingers trailed down the very sensitive seams of his chest plating. He arched into those startlingly skilled hands with groan. It would be so easy to pretend that this _was _love. Frenzy seemed to be a very quick learner; now he vibrating his fingers against Steeljaw's shoulder joints and _oh slag _it felt so good as Frenzy pressed a warm kiss to an exposed cable on Steeljaw's neck, nibbling with pressure just short of pain.

"You're ... way too good ... at this." He gasped.

"You're so gorgeous." Frenzy murmured, pressing his slim body against Steeljaw's. "Not exactly good at the mushy stuff ..."

"... you seem to be doing fine ..."

"... but maybe it's not too early."

"We barely know ... it's too soon."

"You're _gorgeous_." Frenzy repeated. "I love how you move, all grace and power. And then you ... you ... you _care _... maybe I think I like you a lot."

He blinked at the words, optical shutters clicking audibly. It was too soon. It wasn't possible. They didn't know each other well enough ... and Frenzy's heated spike, fully erect, was resting against his abdomen. Frenzy trailed a hand over Steeljaw's cheek arch. "I am better at doing things than saying things, Mousebreath."

He snorted a surprised laugh at the nickname.

"... and I wanna _do _you. And then be done by you. And all that."

He ... could feel that Frenzy was _very _erect. His own systems were running hot, his own spike now painfully engorged as it pressed hard against his still closed cover. He finally sent the command to open up, and the spike slid out against Frenzy's knee.

Frenzy glanced down at it, and then back up with a smirk. "Damn, that thing's huge for your size. I'm not going to be able to swallow all of it ..."

"What?" He said, half a yelp. Nobody had _ever _done that to him, not even when he'd hinted a few times. Frenzy, however, was already closing his mouth around ... his hot, slick mouth ... sucking ...

... oh Primus.

_Primus_.

_:Love that noise you're making,: _Frenzy said, over a very close-range comm frequency.

He realized he was gasping in time to the motions of Frenzy's mouth, embarassingly helpless small cries of pleasure. He could feel a charge building, and nanytes rushing into his reservoir. "Frenzy, I'm gonna ..."

Frenzy slid two fingers into his valve, a bit awkwardly, but accidentally-on-purpose hitting a sensitive node. He lost control with a shout, as the charge and pressure reached a crescendo of pleasure. His vision fuzzed out. Energy crackled across his plating. He arched upwards, losing himself in the moment.

_:You are so gorgeous!: _Frenzy purred to him.  
_  
_It was the words that did it, pushing him over the edge into helpless climax. It was perhaps the most powerful overload of his life. He was dimly aware, as his systems reset, of Frenzy slipping between his legs. "You still with me, Mouser?" Frenzy asked, laughing a little. He sounded proud of himself.

"Frenzy ..." He murmured, shocked at himself. He hadn't intended to let go like that. "... Frenzy."

_:Look at me!:_

He realized he still had his optics off. He turned them back on, too stunned by his own reactions to even feel annoyed at what was truly a bossy-sounding order. Frenzy was sprawled between his thighs, hands resting on his stomach, and smiling at him. No, that wasn't right. Frenzy was _grinning _at him. The slagging little imp looked immensely pleased with himself.

The first time they'd interfaced, it had been about pure connectoion, and he'd woken frightened and disoriented, and had taken primitive comfort from the touch of another. It had just happened, the third time, that Frenzy had spiked him. This was something very different, more deliberate. He found he was quivering with raw anticipation despite just overloading moments before.

_:Much better.: _Frenzy shifted his weight, and the very tip of his heated spike brushing against Steeljaw's valve.

He was going to be thoroughly spiked ... anticipation made his circuits heat. Frenzy's mouth was open now, smirk replaced by a look of sheer pleasure and awe.

"You're so gorgeous ..." Frenzy murmured aloud, as he thrust firmly, with authority, into Steeljaw's valve. The sensation of being suddenly stretched and filled, made him cry out in surprise. He hadn't expected it to feel so damn good, overwhelming, and _connecting_. "Primus, Steeljaw. _Primus_."

He struggled to keep his optics online as new waves of pleasure rocked his frame. Steeljaw grabbed at Frenzy's shoulders as the smaller mech settled into a fast, almost aggressive, rhythm. Frenzy's optics were fixed on his face, watching him, _meeting _his gaze head on. There was no submission in those red optics, no self doubt or guilt and, for the moment, the aching grief had disappeared. He had expected a broken partner who he would heal ...

... and in a sudden, electric, moment, he realized he'd found an equal, instead.

Frenzy pushed one last time, almost violently, into him. Heated fluids rushed through his systems, his internals welcoming this with a ripple of pleasure that was the only forewarning he got before he, too, let go. Overload ripped through his circuits for a second time. He clutched Frenzy to him as they both cried out in a shattering shared climax. He thought it had been good earlier, but now it was as if the universe stopped and was replaced by a moment of utter perfection.

"Wow," he murmured, when he could move again. He stroked Frenzy's head; Frenzy was sprawled across him, completely relaxed. Only his fans were moving, and they whirred at a high rate of speed as they dispelled excess heat.

In reaction, Frenzy reached up and held Steeljaw's hand in place against his cheek. It was a wordless gesture of affection that seemed to thaw something in Steeljaw's spark that he'd never realized was frozen. He loved his bonded siblings, he trusted Blaster with his spark ... but he'd feared he would never have a real lover, a partner for eternity, and he could almost believe, when the Frenzy touched him like that, that Frenzy might be that mech.

"You okay, Mouser?" Frenzy asked, voice full of teasing humor. "I didn't make you glitch?"

"N... no." He rolled over, gripping Frenzy as he did, so that he ended up on top of the other mech. Frenzy didn't even tense up at the sudden motion; he just spread his legs and shifted around to get comfortable underneath Steeljaw. There was absolute trust in the calmness of his reactions.

"Oooh, you're up for round three?" Frenzy purred, rocking his hips upwards.

"Slag ..." Steeljaw groaned. He was definitely _not _up for round three, in more ways than one. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to be insatiable? ... give me a few here."

That got him a snicker. "This, from the mech who just overloaded twice within fifteen minutes."

It was that teasing laugh that did it. It was silly and foolish and far too soon, but he knew with absolute surety that he was utterly in love. This made him despair, for surely, Frenzy didn't feel that way about him.

He could not tell Frenzy how he felt. It was far too soon, far too much. He merely shuttered his optics and held Frenzy tight. Frenzy was just using him for comfort, and as a distraction. He was willing to be used, but it hurt to know that was all this was - and might ever be - for Frenzy.

Maybe this had been a very bad idea.

Maybe he was a fool.

Frenzy traced an old weld scar on his shoulder, and said softly, "You are gorgeous."

It almost sounded like, _I love you_, the way Frenzy said those words.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine 

* * *

Ratchet wished he'd been able to get thoroughly intoxicated, but he was not confident enough in the repairs he'd done to Soundwave to allow himself that luxury. He would not be able to bring Soundwave back from another crash if he was drunk on high grade. Off duty or not, he was always on call for cases as complicated as Soundwave's, and Soundwave had gone from "serious" to "incredibly difficult" with his cascade failure. There was just nobody else at the base who had his experience.

Therefore, he was unhappily sober when he returned to his quarters very late that night. The single cube of high grade he'd consumed during the poker game was not nearly enough to impact a mech of his mass.

Skyfire looked up as he entered, a smile touching his lip plates. The jet was seated somewhat awkwardly on Ratchet's couch, dwarfing the furniture. He looked like he needed recharge. Ratchet felt a bit guilty for keeping him up late while he'd blown off some steam playing poker with Wheeljack, Sparkplug, and Smokescreen, but this was actually part of Skyfire's assigned duty shift. Skyfire had the lowest seniority of anyone with anything that would pass for medical training, so he was getting the lousiest hours.

"How is he?"

Skyfire nodded at the bedroom. "Recharging peacefully. No change to his stats. I'm on shift for another half hour, if you want to go do something …"

"Nah, I'm good. You're dismissed. Jazz is playing movies in the rec room right now, if you want to go catch the end of Speed."

"Thanks for the warning."

Ratchet chuckled at Skyfire's dry tone. Skyfire definitely wasn't the action-movie sort. He was an attractive mech, Ratchet thought, but a little too stuffy.

"I think I'll turn in early, then. Thank you, sir."

After Skyfire had let himself out, Ratchet stuck his head into his bedroom. Frenzy was sitting in a chair, arms folded across his chassis, and staring moodily at nothing. As the monitors indicated, his master was in deep recharge.

:You okay?: he comm'd the kid.

:Not particularly. Nothing you can do about it.:

:Need to talk?:

:Yeah. To Soundwave. You can't fix that.:

He couldn't. He sighed. :Did you eat, at least?:

:I'm not a sparkling.:

:C'mon. I'll fix you some energon.:

:High grade?: Frenzy said, hopefully.

He considered the request, then smiled. :Yeah, sure. C'mon. You can have the drink I've been wanting.:

:Eh, I'll pass. No fun getting overcharged alone.: Frenzy unfolded from his fetal position in the chair and stood up, then hopped to the floor. :Some of that sweetened energon you made earlier would be good, though, I guess:

He held the door open, then casually boosted Frenzy up to the counter. As he did, he noted Frenzy had recently buffed his paint on his legs and chest, and smelled faintly of soap, like he'd just visited the wash racks. Ratchet manage not to smirk as he asked, "How'd your day go?"

That got him a wary look. "Okay."

"Uh-huh."

Frenzy was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and looking very defensive. He didn't believe that he was 'okay.' However, demanding an explanation from the kid would get him nowhere. Ratchet got a cube down from his cabinet, popped the seal, and poured a Frenzy-sized serving it into a glass. He added the sweeteners and a generous helping of the additives that he knew Frenzy's still-repairing systems needed, the put the glass in his microwave to warm up.

After a moment's contemplation, he made himself a similar glass with the remaining contents of the cube. At a loss for anything else to say, he volunteered, "I used to make energon sweets all the time, but I've never had the time since we arrived here on Earth."

Once upon a time, he'd had a small medical practice. He'd been well known for spoiling sparkling patients with treats. He quietly missed those days. It had been so long since he'd seen a real sparkling. Frenzy, with his small stature, youth, and wounded spark, was the closest thing he had to those innocent children so long ago. Frenzy was no innocent, and no child, but Ratchet still found himself wanting to spoil the little mech shamelessly.

Not that he would ever admit to the impulse to anyone.

Frenzy smiled faintly. "One of my creators made sweets for me'n Rumble. Primus, I haven't had an energon gummy in a thousand years."

He resolved to find some time in the chemistry lab in the near future. He wanted to see that smile again. There were very few Autobots who would understand - other than Optimus - but there was just something incredibly rewarding about healing the enemy. That included healing emotional trauma. He could never take Frenzy's grief away, but he could make the kid feel at home here, and accepted, and comfortable and secure in his life. If he and Optimus worked at it, Frenzy would fit in with the others, as long as Frenzy didn't betray their kindness.

He didn't think the kid would. What was he going to do, run back to Megatron? Hardly.

Only after he'd sipped at the energon did Frenzy said, "Steeljaw's somebody special."

"He is." Ratchet had known Steeljaw for a long time. Steelie, like the rest of Blaster's symbionts, sometimes seemed to live in Blaster's shadow, but he'd interacted with the mech personally enough to recognize his intelligence and real decency.

"What happens to me - and to him - if we were to, you know, merge or maybe bond?"

He stared at the kid over the top of his glass of energon. That was not a question he'd expected. Then he looked down into the energon for a moment and finally said, "I really wish this was high grade."

"It was a serious question."

"Isn't it too early to even think about that?"

Frenzy shrugged, a bit sullenly. "M'life sucks."

"Join the club, kid."

"I'm not a child!"

"I know. I also call Sunstreaker 'kid'. I've got close to a million years on you, I'm entitled." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know, kiddo. There's a lot of complications, there. From what I understand of your kind, you need approval of his carrier and siblings … as well as your own."

"Yeah, I know.." Frenzy frowned into his own glass. "It's approval I don't think I'll ever get - but what about from a political standpoint?"

"He's a special ops mech. He has to have a very high security clearance. If he's bonded to someone without that level of clearance, he would default to the other mech's level of clearance, which means he couldn't do his job anymore. On top of that, I think I'd have to say Blaster and his entire team wouldn't qualify for special ops field work anymore. There would be too much risk of compromise." Hard words, he knew, but Frenzy needed to know the score.

Frenzy seemed to sink in on himself. "Yeah, what I shoulda figured out first … hurts like slag to really get interested in some other mech then not be able to, you know, have them."

"You didn't merge …" alarm thrilled through him. Had they merged? It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that Frenzy would have been desperate enough, and Steelie lonely enough. However, he would have thought that Steeljaw would have more sense. Blaster would never have approved of it, either. Blaster was too loyal to the Autobot cause, and too self-sacrificing, to let one of his symbionts compromise their whole team.

Half the bonded pairs he knew had happened accidentally, as compatible mechs got carried away in the heat of passion and made it permanent.

Frenzy glanced upwards at him. His mouth twisted into something smile-shaped, with no joy behind it. "No. And I won't. Not if it will hurt him.."

"Praise Primus for mechs with common sense." He really, really wanted a drink. This was a complication they didn't need. Though, granted, the two were being smart and deserved points for resisting their urges.

On the other hand, if Frenzy was thinking about merging - and Primus help them, bonding - he wasn't likely to croak from grief any time soon. He might even survive Soundwave's demise. Falling in love was something that would give him hope and dreams for his future. He didn't want to squash those dreams, though he saw a million obstacles in their way.

Frenzy snorted. "Ratchet, this is completely crazy. Me. An Autobot. I don't know what to do."

"Do?"

"I …" Frenzy sighed. "I want this. Now. But it'd hurt him if we went too fast, didn't get everyone's approval. I won't hurt him. But I'm so slagging alone, Ratchet. I don't even know if I really … really care about him, or if I'm being selfish. He's a good mech. I don't want t' hurt him. Know what I mean? And it'll hurt me like slag if this doesn't work out, too. Him, too. He's never gotten a fair shake from partners before. It's like with Ravage, nobody ever saw him as a mech, they just saw a primitive. Steelie's not an animal, he's a person. A good person. An' I guess he's not used t' people seeing that."

Ratchet thought that this had to be one of the most surreal moments of his life. He had a former Decepticon symbiont angsting in his quarters over an Autobot, and he found he was trying to think of ways to help the mech make it work. "You're a good kid. Not all mechs would see things the way you do."

Frenzy's level of sophisticated self insight, and empathy for Steelie, surprised him, until he thought about it … Frenzy had been bonded to at least one other mech since creation. For most of his life, he'd been part of a team of several mechs. He'd clearly loved his brothers, and Ratchet suspected that the relationship between them had been deeper and richer than most would ever believe..

"I … can't hurt Soundwave, Ratchet. I can't. And Steeljaw understands. He can't hurt his brothers or Blaster, either. I guess I'll just have to wait until Steeljaw and I could merge and not cause all kinds of problems doing it. That will be never, probably. Primus, my life sucks right now."

"I'm sorry, Frenzy."

Frenzy flung his free hand into the air. "I just wish I could blow something up or get in a really good fight and I can't even do that."

"Slag, I know that feeling." Ratchet snorted. "It'll work out, kiddo. Just give it time. You're doing fine with us."

That got him a sudden and surprisingly bright smile, which Frenzy tried to hide by sipping at his energon. After a moment, Frenzy said in an earnest voice, "Ratchet, thank you."

"Mmm. Don't get mushy on me or you'll annoy me."

"I don't do mushy." Frenzy's smile changed to a scowl.

"Good. Because I can't stand mushy."

"Sir," Frenzy's grin was back. "In that case, we're gonna get along beautifully."

He smiled back.

Frenzy paused a beat, and then added, "So why do you make energon sweets again?" And then before Ratchet could respond, he retreated with a, "G'night, sir. Thanks for the fuel. It's time for me to get some recharge!" 

* * *

Soundwave came online to an awareness of a small, warm weight on his chest. Slowly, he lifted his hand up and found Frenzy's reassuring presence. Sometime after he'd slipped into recharge, Frenzy had apparently come in and decided to recharge curled up on top of him.

He stroked Frenzy's plating, wishing he could talk to him. Frenzy stirred, and lifted his head up, and reacted with worry and confusion for a second, then sat up and said something soft and sad sounding. The kid then slid off him, headed into the other room, and returned with a somewhat sleepy looking Ratchet in tow.

Ratchet helped him sit up (though Soundwave didn't think he really needed the help) and checked the monitors after he did so. Then he squeezed Soundwave's shoulder comfortingly. Soundwave found he didn't resent that touch, and actually welcomed it. He'd touched minds with Ratchet, had seen what was in the mech's spark, and he found his wariness of the Autobot had evaporated. Touch appreciated … he thought, surprising himself, even as he (just barely) managed keep from leaning into the mech's hand. To his disappointment, Ratchet moved away after a moment.

Fool, he thought at himself. While he truly trusted Ratchet as much as he trusted anyone who wasn't bonded to him, he couldn't afford to get too attached. Still, the warmth and gentleness of that touch was alluring.

Ratchet produced a cube of energon from his subspace and offered it to him. He accepted it, and started to share it with Frenzy, then realized Frenzy already had his own cube, and he could tell it was warmed and sweetened by the odor. Frenzy glanced up as he briefly reached towards him. Frenzy's gaze in his direction was accompanied by a fierce stab of guilt, anxiety, and faint overtones of anger.

He was worried about Frenzy. That thread of anxious concern made Frenzy look sharply away from him. He had no idea what to do about Frenzy's mood, so he sniffed his own energon, which proved to be plain. He didn't know if he should be disappointed or relieved. He was not a sparkling, to desire coddling and treats. Not adult, he thought, of the energon. He definitely didn't want Ratchet to perceive him as juvenile.

Ratchet caught him checking his energon, though, and traded a look with Frenzy. With his slagged sensors slowing him down, and his coordination off, he wasn't quick enough to stop Ratchet from whisking the cube back out of his hands. Frenzy grinned at him, pointed in the direction Ratchet had gone, sipped his energon, and gave a big thumb's up.

A few moments later, Ratchet returned with the cube heated and adulterated with the sweetener. Soundwave studied it suspiciously, for more reasons than just a desire to appear adult. Among Decepticons, there was absolutely no way he'd trust another mech (other than his symbionts) to do anything to his energon. He fueled out of the common dispenser, under the belief that nobody would be so stupid as to poison the main tank, and nobody else's digits touched his cubes.

However, he also knew he was being illogical. Ratchet had hacked through his firewalls, had been in his head, had probably seen a good bit of information about his life, and was still treating him with care. Moreover, the medic had probably had already accessed every bit of his frame, if what he understood about his level of damage was correct. However, he still couldn't reach for the cube and take it. Old habits died very hard.

A moment ago he had not been wishing wistfully for a cube of sweet energon of his own. Now he couldn't bring himself to accept it. He told himself the reason was that he was vaguely offended by the offer, and not reacting with paranoia to a kind gesture by a mech he trusted. He wanted Ratchet to care for him. Clearly, this was evidence that he was achieving those goals with very little effort. He should be accepting the overture. He couldn't bring himself to move, however.

He told himself the only reason was that he didn't want to be treated like a child. This was a sparkling's beverage.

Frenzy gave him a puzzled look, clearly reading his suspicion. Then his expression cleared as he understood, at least partially. He said something to Ratchet, who rolled his optics and took a healthy swig from it, and handed it back. Ratchet looked mildly annoyed, even as he thrust the cube at Soundwave for a second time.

Somehow, Ratchet's irritation made it easier to take the drink.

He clicked back his mask and sampled the energon at last. It was good - sweet, thick, warm, full of rich metallic tones and a fair amount of expensive cybertronium. He knew he needed the rare metal for his welds to heal properly, but he was surprised that Autobots would spare more than the bare minimum on him.

Ratchet patted him on the shoulder, then quickly disconnected the monitors attached to him and hooked up the portable datapad. Then, after a final comforting squeeze to his arm, and another smile, he left that room.

That smile could have undone him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or smile in response. Nobody had looked at him like that, like they cared, in so very long. He was Soundwave, inscrutable, dangerous, and with the emotions of a drone, as far as anyone else in the Decepticon army knew. Frenzy, in reaction to what he felt, gave him an odd look.

Ratchet cared. Nobody had cared about him in a very long time, other than his bonded symbionts. Even before the war, he'd learned bitterly hard lessons about trusting others. Mechs he'd thought of as family had betrayed him, rejected him, and cast him out of their world. He tried to tell himself that the Autobot was behaving normally for an Autobot, and his plans to win a place as a servant under the Autobot medic were proceeding well. He tried to tell himself that the affection and genuine concern from the Autobot didn't matter to him except as a good sign promising success. He shouldn't be feeling an answering twinge of warmth in his own spark.

Megatron had valued him, and he had thought that value would translate into caring, or at least a sense of obligation. He had been bitterly wrong. It was the same lesson he'd learned so long ago, and he should not have forgotten that hard, ancient lesson when it came to Megatron.

By contrast, he had no value to Ratchet, not yet, not as a useful servant, but the mech still cared enough to risk his own processor by dropping his firewalls in a desperate bid to gain his trust. He'd felt the depth of Ratchet's concern, and the medic's devotion to his craft, and the worry that Ratchet had held for an enemy soldier. Ratchet believed so strongly in saving lives, and in the essential worth of all people, that he'd been willing to risk his own life to save Soundwave's.

That smile, aimed his way, was a dangerous, dangerous thing. It would be too easy to forget his goals in the face of that smile. It would be too easy to care right back. Ratchet, as a superior, was absolutely ideal, as far as Soundwave was concerned, but he told himself he needed to remain logical. He wanted the mech for a boss, not a friend.

Frenzy was still staring at him. He met his symbiont's startled gaze with narrowed optics behind his visor, mouth twisting into a grim line as fear stabbed at his spark. Frenzy could say things to Ratchet that Soundwave would rather he not know. Frenzy couldn't see his expression, but his symbiont could certainly detect his mood, and the little mech jerked his gaze away and hunched up.

With the thought of the dangers of Frenzy talking to Ratchet threatening to stall his processor, he decided it was time to get up. He heaved himself off the berth and held onto the wall for balance for a second. The world spun and he locked his joints against the perceived motion. After a moment, he set his sights on the door and cautiously stepped towards it. Frenzy scrambled out of his way as he swayed and staggered, but he made it. He was going to move under his own power.

Ratchet looked up, a quick glance in his direction, as he entered the main room. The medic didn't come to help him, for which he was grateful. He was tired of being hauled around like an invalid.

After making a "follow me" gesture, Ratchet simply headed for the hall.

The Autobot moved slowly so he could keep up, and it was amazing to Soundwave how normal it felt to walk beside another mech. He staggered and stumbled and the world rolled around him, but he did manage to stay on his feet. Once in the med bay, Ratchet patted him on the arm, then pointed at a chair. He nodded and sat down, but was then surprised when the medic stepped up very close to him.

What?

Ratchet reached for Soundwave's visor. Soundwave recoiled reflexively as Ratchet's fingers approached his face. Ratchet, patiently retreated a little, then held a hand out, palm up, clearly asking him to remove the visor himself. He never took his visor off in public. His optics revealed too much about his mood. He strongly preferred to be a mystery to others, even as he watched them closely.

Less relevant now, the visor had also been integrated into a number of his systems, including advanced optical targeting for his weapons. It also was capable of displaying visual feeds from his symbionts, and from remote spy cameras. All those capabilities were lost now, since he couldn't generate the commands to operate them - and his weapons were gone.

Ratchet waited patiently for him to hand over his visor. Soundwave told himself his resentment and annoyance aimed at Ratchet for simply trying to take the visor was illogical. Ratchet almost certainly had some sort of medical procedure in mind, and was acting as his medic. Anxiety over an unknown procedure replaced his irritation. What did Ratchet have planned?

Soothingly, Ratchet ran a hand over Soundwave's shoulder, then crouched to be on optic level with the sitting Soundwave. The medic tapped the side of his own face, then mimed taking a visor off.

Soundwave, reluctantly, reached up and clicked it free. Ratchet flashed him another one of those startling smiles of approval, took the visor with careful fingers, and rose. His knees creaked as he did, making Soundwave suspicious that the medic didn't take as good of care of himself as he did of his patients. He blinked optics that weren't used to unfiltered light as Ratchet carried the visor over to his work bench. Curious and worried all at once, he heaved himself back to his feet and followed.

The medic wasn't the slightest bit afraid of him. Soundwave peered over the Autobot's unflinching shoulder as he worked. Ratchet had his visor hooked up to a data pad, and he seemed to be doing something to the device's code. Once he finished that, he unscrewed an access panel, and soldered in a small bit of electronics. Then he offered the visor back to Soundwave.

His visor now had level in the heads-up display, showing orientation.

He dipped his head experimentally. There were lines representing all three axises. He blinked, realizing that was something he could definitely work with. It would make determining up from down a lot easier. The idea was simple, creative, and a completely unexpected kindness.

Ratchet clapped him on the shoulder, then walked off to greet the day's first patient. Soundwave stared after him, very glad that nobody could see his expression. He was dumbfounded, again, by the medic.

He was still standing rooted in place a couple minutes later, trying to process why Ratchet was being so very kind, when Wheeljack walked in. Frenzy, who had been following Ratchet around, looked up at Wheeljack's entry and said something questioning. Wheeljack responded with what sounded like an order. Frenzy nodded, and trotted out of the room.

Out of Soundwave's sight.

Out of his control.

The other was out there - the one Frenzy had a relationship with. The mech that Soundwave didn't know, couldn't control, and who he didn't understand.

He was so alarmed by the possibilities inherent in Frenzy's departure that he took a quick step towards the door. Enhanced visor or not, he just didn't have the balance to make moves like that. He went crashing to the floor with a tremendous bang, making Ratchet jump and his patient - one of the minibots - laugh. Ratchet cuffed the minibot in irritation, then went to offer him a hand up.

Frenzy. He was so desperately worried.

Ratchet tilted his head to one side after pulling Soundwave back to his feet, and clearly seemed to be communicating with someone over his comm. Then he pointed at a monitor mounted on the wall. It was now displaying an image of Frenzy, as seen from a security cam. Soundwave watched, shocked by a yet another example of simple understanding and kindness from the medic, as the display showed Frenzy's progression.

Apparently, the kid was being given janitorial work. He relaxed, watching as Frenzy got a bucket and a mop out of a broom closet and headed for the rec room. There, he started cleaning up spilled energon near the dispenser. It was an incredible relief to be able to watch as Frenzy mopped.

Frenzy was working harder and more willingly than Soundwave had ever seen. Apparently, he was trying to impress the Autobots. Across the bond, Soundwave could detect a low undercurrent of worry to his mood, as if he wasn't sure if his work would be deemed good enough. He was very thorough, too, even drying the floor with a handful of rags after cleaning the spill up.

Then Steeljaw moved into the frame. Frenzy's expression positively lit up, and his spark filled with unexpected happiness and real affection. It was so very clear that this was the mech he'd interfaced with. Soundwave remembered the young feline symbiont resting a hand in his and gazing up at him, as if seeking approval.

Frenzy had always been a good judge of character … and his reaction to Steeljaw said a great deal to Soundwave. Anyone who made Frenzy light up like that had to be treating Frenzy right.

He turned away from the screen, not wanting to watch them interact. What happened if he lost Frenzy? He couldn't bring himself to block out Frenzy's emotions, however. He had been worried he would never feel Frenzy happy again, but Steeljaw was bringing him joy. This left him with terribly confused feelings. He wanted Frenzy to be happy, but the cost to himself was terrible.

After a moment, he sighed and decided he needed to find ways of his own to be useful. Frenzy was earning his keep, and Soundwave had to do the same if he wanted to work on his goal of becoming Ratchet's servant. The med bay needed sweeping … janitorial work was a tremendous come-down from being head of Decepticon communications, but it was probably the best he could do right now.

Ratchet watched him for a moment, as he hunted for a broom, them stopped him with a hand on his arm. He guided Soundwave to his work bench, made him sit, and then - to Soundwave's gratitude - plunked a large box of assorted diodes down on the desk, and handed him a tester. It had a simple red/green display, showing if the diode was functioning or burnt out. Ratchet demonstrated that he wanted Soundwave to sort the good diodes from the bad with a few hand gestures, then walked back to greet the second patient of the day.

After the diodes, were sorted, Ratchet gave him a box of small electric motors. He made two piles of those, working and not, and then found the parts to repair the burnt-out motors in a cabinet. He was winding the coils for the second motor when Ratchet wandered over again. The medic made an approving sound, patted him on the shoulder, and dropped another box of parts on the desk. He pointed at the sink, then walked away.

Soundwave peered in the box. It held gears and other assorted small mechanical bits. Most of them were crusted with grease and dirt. Apparently, Ratchet wanted them cleaned.

It was quickly becoming obvious that he wasn't going to need to try very hard to become useful to Ratchet. Ratchet had no problem at all with giving him chores. This pleased him. It also, apparently, pleased Ratchet, who seemed inordinately cheerful.

He had the parts cleaned and sorted by noon. Ratchet saw twelve more patients, doing mostly routine maintenance and minor repairs. Twice, the medic came over to pick a gear out of the growing pile of clean parts, and once he rummaged through the box of good diodes. The Autobots Ratchet was working on watched Soundwave with a mixture of curiosity and hostility, depending on the mech. He ignored them, since he had no need, ability, nor desire to communicate with them, other than to absently monitor them for true aggressive intent.

Stares he didn't care about, but he didn't especially want any new dents.

He struggled to his feet and started putting the parts away on shelves. Ratchet's supplies needed organizing, but that could wait until he was a little more stable on his feet. He was worried about falling and taking a shelf or two down with him. That would be embarassing, and would probably anger his new maswer.

He was still having trouble with balance, though not as much as before. The head's up display showing his orientation to the world was a tremendous help, as long as he remembered to focus on that and not what his damaged sensor connections were telling him. If he could understand his own code he would have written a script instructing his autonomic subroutines to base orientation on the visual display, but he couldn't do that if he couldn't read his own programming language. It took conscious effort.

He managed to walk to the shelf with the parts held in his hands, stack the boxes, turn, and walk back to the desk without more than a little unsteady swaying. He needed practice, he thought, and he ached to have some time in a proper training room, to relearn how to move.

A few minutes later, Ratchet walked up beside him, slid a hand under his elbow, and guided him towards his office. Soundwave, puzzled, let himself be led. Ratchet indicated he should sit in a chair facing his desk, and then claimed his desk chair with a tired-sounding grunt. Ratchet had been working hard for hours, Soundwave noted, without any sort of a break.

The medic turned his chair around on its wheels, rummaged in a cabinet behind him, produced a cube of energon and two glasses, and filled both. He added a solution of metal additives from a jar to Soundwave's fuel, then he made a show of sipping from Soundwave's glass before handing it to him, and smirked as he did.

Soundwave scowled behind his mask and visor, wondering if he was being teased playfully or nastily. Without his telepathic mods, he was left guessing. He decided to show no reaction at all, except to accept and sip the fuel. He probably needed to fuel, though he couldn't read his own gauges. The datapad monitoring his systems was attached inside his chest plates, where he couldn't see it.

Maybe Ratchet could give him a head's up display for his vitals inside his visor. Relying on a datapad, with an external connection, made him quite uneasy.

Ratchet produced a box from another cabinet, and dumped the contents out. Soundwave's optic ridges rose when he saw that the contents were a number of tiles with pictures and words in Cybertronian. When he tried to comprehend the words they were unintelligible, but he had no issue with understanding the pictures.

Ratchet picked half a dozen tiles out. Three were of animals, three were of plants - a flower, a tree, a cactus. He then gestured at the pile and pointed at Soundwave.

Soundwave rolled his optics behind his visor and added a different type of tree to the 'plant' pile, along with grass, a picture of lumber, a picture of a forest, and a picture of denim jeans. He was well aware that jeans were made of plant fibers. To the animal pile he added pictures of clams, a human infant, an amoeba, and a picture of a dog riding in a truck. He tapped the dog with one finger to make sure Ratchet understood the connection he was making.

If Ratchet wanted to know if he could generalize, there was his answer.

Ratchet had started smiling with the picture of the jeans. When Soundwave had gone through all two hundred or so tiles and sorted out everything that was a 'plant' or an 'animal' he gave him a thumb's up and scattered the tiles again. This time, he sorted the first several by the most predominant color on each tile. Soundwave thought was checking to see if he was registering information clearly about visible light.

Soundwave made a rainbow.

Ratchet laughed when he realized what Soundwave was doing, and shook his head. Soundwave, who was being sarcastic, was surprised by the real amusement from Ratchet..

Several of the tiles had images of traffic signs, including four with stop signs. Soundwave sorted those out into one pile, and all the 'yield' signs into another. He wanted to make it very clear to Ratchet just how much of his mental faculties remained - which were most of them.

Ratchet gave him an odd look, suddenly frowning. He grabbed three tiles at random, wrote a word on the back in English, and flipped them over so Soundwave couldn't see the picture. He picked three more out, and wrote the same set of words on the back.

He paired two words, then indicated Soundwave should do the same.

That was easy enough. Soundwave did. It was just a matter of matching the shapes. And then he stopped, hand hovering over the tiles, excitement coursing through his wires. He flipped the tiles over, showing two plants - Ratchet had written a word on the back, the same word for each, though one was a daisy and the other grass. Same with two animals - a cat and a dog, but the same word. And two vehicles, but also the same word.

English was a language of generalities, Cybertronian one of very specific meaning. His inability to read Cybertronian was a bandwidth issue; his language centers didn't have the connections left to handle the data. Cybertronian transmitted huge volumes of information, bundled into very rapid bursts of sound or radio waves. Much of the language processing for Cybertronian was hard code or actual hardware - there was meaning in tonalities, in duration of time, in changes in pitch, beyond anything a human could handle. English was different. It was slower, more general, with specifics indicated by the use of multiple modifiers to each word. To communicate in English required not just a knowledge of the language, but a knowledge of the culture, and the xenospecific assumptions, behind each word.

Instead of billions of words, English had a few hundred thousand - and far fewer words than than that in common use. He suspected he could effectively communicate with a few thousand words and modifiers. The thought was electrifying. His mind raced through the possibilities.

He wasn't sure he had enough auditory processing capability left to understand even spoken English. Right now, his English lexicon was stored and inaccessible in his language centers. However, there was no reason a visual representation of English couldn't be stored in the same part of his mind that handled processing visual data and identifying objects rather than processing language. There was certainly enough bandwidth to handle identifying written English words using object recognition routines versus actual language processing..

Just as he could identify a picture of a tree, he could learn to associate the word 'tree' with the picture - to generalize. The image of the word tree would mean 'tree' the same way a pine, an oak, and a palm were all trees. His mind could lump that image of the word in with the other types of 'trees.'

He would just need to learn to read English again, and store the data as visual symbols, not as actual words. It only rankled his pride a little bit that he'd need to use a simplistic human language for to speak. It was a clever solution, he knew it would work in a round-about way, and he was proud of his problem solving abilities. Now, all he needed to do was communicate the plan to Ratchet. Ratchet might even have grasped the same solution, given Ratchet's actions with writing the words.

He turned the tiles over and firmly stabbed his finger at the words on the back.

Ratchet's optics lit up. He grabbed a stylus from his desk and wrote something quickly in English. Perhaps he thought that Soundwave could read English now. He couldn't, but he was incredibly sure he could memorize the appearance of the words. Maybe, with time, he could even learn to read Cybertronian the same way, though at a very slow pace. English was a good start.

He shrugged, pointed at the words, and pointed at the tiles.

Ratchet frowned, clearly not quite understanding. He offered Soundwave the stylus.

Soundwave carefully copied the word on the back of one of the 'plant' tiles. Then he wiped the datapad's screen, flipped the tiles over, wrote the word again, and pointed at the pictures.

Ratchet still looked confused.

English had a symbol that meant 'question' - he tried to remember what it looked like. A curly character, he thought, and struggled to draw it. He pointed at it, and shrugged.

Ratchet shrugged back.

Slag it, maybe Ratchet would understand more if he could see Soundwave's expressions. He retracted his face mask and visor, baring his face. He pointed at the symbol, and raised both optic ridges in question.

Ratchet frowned at it for a second, then wiped the image and redrew it - facing the other direction and right side up. He lifted his own ridges in matching inquiry.

Soundwave stabbed a finger at the symbol, then at a picture. This would work, if he could get the mech's cooperation.

It took several more rounds of pointing and gesturing, and growing impatience on his part, before he convinced Ratchet to write English words on the backs of all of the tiles. Then Ratchet did him one better, writing multiple words. He suddenly wondered if Ratchet's sudden confusion had been an act, perhaps a test in itself of his mental faculties.

After Ratchet was done, he scanned through the words. It appeared that Ratchet was assuming his analytical skills were fully intact, because he'd given him a bit of a puzzle to decipher.

'Dog' was only on the back of the picture of a canine and 'cat' on the tile with a cat, but both had 'mammal.' He had printed 'animal' on the back of the dog, cat, bird, clams, and several others. The cat was a tabby, and got the word 'stripes' printed on it, along with a zebra. A car with racing stripes had an arrow pointing to the stripes drawn on the front and the word 'stripes' on it, as well. Every animal that was clearly moving fast in the pictures got the word 'run.' Vehicles were described as 'car' and 'truck' as well as the term 'vehicle' and then he drew and labeled parts of a vehicle - wheels, doors, windshield, lights. Ratchet followed this up with a sketch of a mech and words with arrows to the right part - hands, face, arms, legs, feet, optics, mouth, head, and more. Soundwave thought that these words were far more practical than nouns describing terrestrial creatures, and signaled his approval with a smile.

Ratchet smiled back, a bright and fleeting expression that was suddenly replaced by a faint scowl. Soundwave briefly wondered if he'd done something wrong, then realized that he'd seen Ratchet favor most of his patients with that same dour look. Still, Ratchet kept helping him, though the medic's defenses had clearly come up. Soundwave wondered what that meant.

By late afternoon, he had a working vocabulary of a few hundred words, mostly nouns and adverbs. It wasn't a useful vocabulary, because it lacked many needed verbs, but at least it was a start.

Finally, however, Ratchet leaned back in his chair, blew out a sigh from his vents, and pointed at a decorative human-style clock on one of his shelves. Soundwave nodded comprehension Apparently, they were out of time.

It was time to try out the language he'd been learning. He picked up the stylus and wrote, "Fuel?"

Ratchet met his gaze, and smiled that genuinely pleased smile again.. He leaned forward, and rested a hand over Soundwave's fingers. Soundwave tensed, still not used to touchy-feeling Autobots and not sure what Ratchet wanted, but all Ratchet did was squeeze his hand briefly. The touch, warm and friendly, did strange things to his spark.

Soundwave, being foolish.

It had been a very long time since anyone had treated him the way Ratchet did, for no apparent reason other than altruism. He told himself he was unwise to react so warmly to the medic.

He turned his hand over, caught Ratchet's fingers, squeezed back. He wished he could say thank you but he didn't have the words yet. He was being very unwise. However, he was compelled to indicate to Ratchet just how much his care meant to him. He'd already observed that Ratchet was incredibly busy, and yet the medic was taking time to help him when he easily could have assigned the chore to someone else.

Ratchet gave him a very, very surprised look, then pulled his hand sharply away. The scowl returned. He muttered grumpily, then rose and helped Soundwave to his feet. Despite his dark expression, however, his hands remained gentle.

He was being foolish.

He knew he was being foolish.

He told himself he wasn't disappointed at all when Ratchet left him in the care of Skyfire, a few minutes later. It didn't matter. He didn't feel abandoned at all. 

* * *

At the end of his shift, Ratchet was in a better mood than he'd had for days. He'd managed to carve out four hours to work with Soundwave, and had been more than pleasantly surprised when Soundwave had figured out a very workable method of communication. He had simply planned on giving Soundwave some useful flash cards, after verifying that Soundwave comprehended enough to use them effectively.

That Soundwave might be able to learn to understand and use written English, when the far more complex Cybertronian language was out of his grasp, had occurred to him when the mech had recognized a stop sign in a picture. Soundwave had figured this out two nanoclicks after Ratchet, and had gotten quite insistent that Ratchet help him. His communication skills, even without language, were quite good when it came to making his needs known.

Ratchet had deliberately played dumb to test Soundwave a bit, and had been pleased by the mech's persistence and logic. He had suspected most of Soundwave's faculties were intact, but it had made his day when Soundwave's behavior had proven his guess correct.

Optimus leaned back in his chair, after listening to Ratchet's report of the day's events. "I would observe that he is the Decepticon communications officer for a very good reason," Prime murmured, finally.

"Huh. Good point." Ratchet ran a hand over his face plates. Given Soundwave's legendary laconic nature before his injury, and his disabilities now, it was easy to forget that he'd specialized in communications even before the war. There was more to expertise in communications than just maintaining equipment.

"How is he doing, medically speaking?"

"His systems are stable, as is his code. I've got him scheduled for surgery in a couple of days to install some workarounds for his damaged sensors, but that's minor."

"Good work."

"Of course it's good work." In reaction to Ratchet's half-grumbled response, Optimus's eyes crinkled into a smile that didn't quite touch his mouth. Ratchet added, "It'll be a few weeks before I'm totally confident he won't crash on us again, but with every passing hour, he's at less risk."

"Good. And Frenzy?"

He rolled his optics. "Suffice to say I was right about Frenzy glomming on to Steeljaw as a reason to live. I just wish I'd been a little less right."

"Ratchet?" Optimus said, "Dare I ask you to be specific?"

"You don't want to know. You really, really, don't want to know."

"Do I need to know?"

"Probably." Ratchet rolled his optics. "If not for various complications, like, oh, Steeljaw's job, and I assume a seriously upset pair of carriers, they might have merged. I'd be scandalized if I didn't find the whole thing amusing."

"Amusing?" Optimus kept a straight face, but if he wasn't mistaken, there was a certain glint of appreciation in the Prime's optics as well.

"Proof positive that younglings are idiots, regardless of faction." Ratchet shook his head.

Optimus just smiled, and Ratchet could see that he was having a mushy moment. Optimus was the biggest sap in the world. Optimus asked, "So, they are finding each other mutually compatible? No signs of friction between them?"

"Somewhat to my surprise, but yes, it's a love match. Apparently very much so. It's a tangled mess they're in now. Still, it might work out. Frenzy's a smart little mech, and he knows where his energon's coming from." Ratchet knew Optimus wouldn't take that statement the wrong way, and would read between the lines to understand Ratchet's sentiments. He didn't completely want to admit it, but he liked the kid. "I doubt they'll do anything stupid, Prime, but we can expect our little Romeo and Juliet to make doe eyes at each other for the foreseeable future."

"If he's thinking of a future with Steeljaw, he's not thinking of offlining," Optimus murmured. "It is a good thing for Frenzy, and perhaps for Steeljaw. It is merely inconvenient for us."

"Jazz will have kittens - I know he was hoping not to have to deal with potential security issues with Steeljaw, and by extension, the rest of his team," Ratchet predicted. Slyly, he suggested, "Can we not tell him?"

"I would suggest allowing Blaster to explain matters to Jazz." Optimus's smile crinkled up the metal around his optics.

"Excellent idea. There is a reason why you're Prime." Ratchet wanted to be a fly on the wall, as the humans said, when Blaster brought this subject up. Jazz was not going to be happy. He very was worried about one of his better teams becoming compromised.

Ratchet was less concerned. He figured that Frenzy would less of a security risk if he was in sappy gooey love with an Autobot. Frenzy was the type of mech loyal to people, not causes - and he seriously doubted Frenzy would betray a lover.

"I thought you didn't believe in true love, Ratchet," Optimus's tone turned just a little teasing. Few who knew Optimus only as Prime would believe he had a sense of humor, but Ratchet damn well recognized that tone. "I believe you are pleased by this."

He grunted, not bothering to deny it. "Busted."

Optimus's smile was very knowing. He glared. Prime's smile just grew that much broader. Optimus, he thought, knew him too damn well. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10, an Adjustment of Plans 

* * *

Carly glanced up from a datapad as Steeljaw padded into the med bay. "Hey, Steelie."

"Hi, oooh, good smells." He greeted her teasingly, by burying his nose in her hair. "Strawberries! New shampoo, Carly?"

"Steelie!" She pushed his head away, laughing as she did. "Hey! That tickles!"

He let himself be pushed, and exaggerated the force of the shove by toppling over sideways. He hit the ground with a crash of armor against the metal floor of the med bay, and sprawled out on his side for a second, looking all the world like one very large domestic cat, with a lion's metal ruff.

Then he grinned playfully, rolled up onto his chest, and asked, "Daniel around? I promised I'd take him out for a hike sometime soon."

"He's out with Bee somewhere, I think. They'll be back by lunch time." Carly frowned at her datapad, glad to see Steeljaw, but halfway distracted by the challenge that Ratchet had given her. Ratchet had asked her to find a good English language recognition program. They were both pretty sure there was some commercially available software that they could adapt to their needs. "Steeljaw, what do you think of this? We're looking for something we can modify to work with Soundwave's heads-up display in his visor."

She handed him the data pad, curious about his take on the problem, and valuing his input. She was embarrassed to know that she had thought of Steeljaw as an intelligent animal at first - talking, but not that bright, or at least, not that sophisticated. It had taken awhile before she'd realized just how smart, and well educated, he really was. The reality was that he'd been involved in Autobot communications since humans had been writing in hieroglyphics, and a that experience had involved establishing communications systems with alien races. This sort of hack job was right smack in his area of expertise.

"Mmm." Steeljaw's whole demeanor changed immediately, from goofy to serious. "I think this one will work." He indicated a window with information about one of several options for programs, with one stubby finger. "It will be the easiest to modify. We can partition off part of his visor's CPU and install a Windows image on it - I did something similar for Jazz so he could play games on his visor."

She snorted a laugh. "Seriously? I did not know that Jazz played games on his HUD."

"Oh, seriously." Steeljaw's grin bared a lot of teeth.

"Now there's a way to survive boring meetings." She was not surprised by this little revelation, though a bit envious.

"My vocalizer's mute on that point. - As far as the voice recognition program goes, as I'm sure you've figured out, the big issue will be getting it to accept input from Soundwave's audio sensors, given the usual hardware issues." Steeljaw frowned. "There's several problems …"

"You guys always think about integrated systems." She could have predicted that Steeljaw would take this approach. "Why do we even need to connect it to his ears? I'll just attach a mic to his visor."

She watched, amused, as Steeljaw processed that simple concept. He blinked twice, then grunted. "That'll work, as long as the microphone's sensitive enough. And tough enough. Don't forget that it could potentially be exposed to non-Earth atmospheres, extremes of temperature, and high gee forces."

"If he visits Titan, we'll figure something out. I doubt he'll be in combat in the forseeable future."

"Don't make that assumption. Don't forget we're in the middle of a war. His survival could be directly impacted by his ability to communicate." Steeljaw's rebuke was gentle, and he took the sting out of his words by smiling at her briefly. "We'll look into external microphones for his visor, but we cannot forget the need for durability. That is why I prefer to use his audio sensors. They are designed for durability in ways that an external microphone isn't."

"Okay," she said, "but you get to debug that design. - So, I take it you are free to work with me on this?" She grinned, looking forward to it, and already anticipating his answer. "Ratchet wants this done ASAP."

"Yeah, I can, but we should get Frenzy involved …"

"The Decepticreep?" She was truly surprised, and a bit put off, by the suggestion. "Not unless I have a pulse cannon aimed at his spark chamber the whole time."

Steeljaw froze, then looked up at her with a tight frown on his face. She was surprised by his reaction. "Frenzy's okay."

"Okay?" She literally took a step back from him. "Okay? It's one thing to - to fix Soundwave. Okay, I get it, he's damaged, he can't communicate, so helping him is the right thing to do. But Frenzy … Frenzy's the enemy and he's … he's fine. I'm sorry, Steelie. I am not going to work with Frenzy. You have to be out of your mind." She was so flustered by the idea that she found herself stuttering.

"I'm sorry. I should have considered your feelings …" Steeljaw sighed. "Carly, Frenzy is not a Decepticon anymore. He won't hurt you, and he's trying very hard to fit in here. Could you at least give him a chance?"

"No."

"Carly …"

"Absolutely not. I will not work with Frenzy. Not ever. Not after the times he's tried to kill us. He's a damn freak of a monster."

A small noise made her look towards the door. Frenzy stood there, staring at her, for a second. Clearly, he'd heard her words. Then he snapped, "At least I'm not a smelly stupid squishy!"

"Frenzy!" Steeljaw whirled. "That was uncalled for."

"You heard what she said!"

Something passed between them on the comms. She saw Steeljaw's eyes narrow. Frenzy glared. Steeljaw's ears pinned flat. She suspected he was pretty annoyed, because he was usually the most easy-going of Autobots. Frenzy, much to her surprise, didn't return the anger with the fury she'd come to expect from the cassette. Instead, he drooped and stared at the ground.

Whatever Steeljaw had said, it had, apparently, had quite an impact.

After a moment, he padded forward, towards her. She tensed. Steeljaw, however, seemed totally relaxed. He said, in a calm tone of voice, "Carly, I want to re-introduce you to Frenzy, who is not a monster, and who will behave himself. I've also reminded him of why you would consider him a monster, including the time he tried to kill Daniel. Frenzy, this is Carly, who is my good friend, who is Daniel's mother, and who can't help but take it personally when you threaten her loved ones.."

She blinked at the Steeljaw's words. Frenzy grumbled, "I get it!"

"Good. Don't forget it." Steeljaw's optics narowed at Frenzy. Then he sighed. "Frenzy, I'm not angry at you, but you need to keep a lid on that temper."

"Heh. Easier said than done." Frenzy flashed Steeljaw a grin.

She was surprised again at the rueful sense of humor in those words. Frenzy's bezerker rages were well known. She'd never even thought of him being so self aware as to joke about them. Pretty much, she'd always dismissed Frenzy as being one the many Decepticons who were both insane and evil. He was just shorter most of them.

Frenzy, meanwhile, regarded her warily, Decepticon-red optics glittering with unreadable emotions. Then, with a wry tone that made him sound so very normal, he said, "Umm, hi. I guess you do have a right to hate me."

"You're shorter than I thought." She wasn't in a mood to be friendly. She just wasn't. It was a complete non sequitor of a response, and she was surprised by herself - it was the first insult that had come to mind. Great, she thought, The Decepticreep has better manners than I do. Thirty-some years of experience fighting his faction had left her more than a bit wary.

Frenzy grinned. The smile was a surprise, transforming his whole face. She'd expected a snarl from him, not that quick flash of humor. Apparently, he wasn't sensitive about his height. Given that every single one of the Autobot cassettes and most of the minibots could be reduced to spitting outrage with sufficient teasing about their size, that was a bit of a surprise. She learned he could give as good as he got, too, when he drawled back, "I'm still taller than you, squishy."

"By what, two inches?" She bristled before realizing that Frenzy had neatly turned the tables on her.

"Carly, could you try to be nice?" Steeljaw rolled his optics.

She wondered what Steeljaw's issue was, anyway. Steelie didn't like 'cons any more than she did. When she had heard that Frenzy was a prisoner on the base, and that he was being put to work, she'd somehow envisioned him shuffling along in chains, either defiantly nasty or whipped and submissive. She had not anticipated him grinning at her from a couple of feet away, acting for all the world just like another mech. A reasonable mech, all things considered. Still, he'd tried to kill Daniel once, which brought out the mama bear in her, and she just didn't want to deal with him.

"Why should I?" she said, finally. Steeljaw had to have lost his mind.

The smile finally slipped from Frenzy's face. Decades among mechs let her see sudden, sharp, pain in his optics. The dimming of the light in his eyes, and the tightening of his irises, was unmistakable. However, instead of the furious response that she would have expected, he took a step back from her, and crossed his arms and looked away. That … wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, though clearly she'd scored.

Frenzy said nothing, but Steeljaw gave her a dirty look and answered her question with, "Because it would be polite?"

"It's okay, Steeljaw." Frenzy hunched his shoulders a little more. "She's got her reasons."

Steeljaw, much to her shock, leaned his head and shoulders against Frenzy's chest. That was a Steelie-hug, and she was even more surprised when Frenzy wrapped his arms around Steeljaw's neck in return. Steeljaw was still glaring at her. She'd known him half her life, and she couldn't remember the last time he'd favored her with a look that showed that much displeasure.

She looked from Steeljaw, to Frenzy, and back to Steeljaw. Frenzy's jaw was set now. He seemed acutely unhappy, and his fingers were curled into a crack in Steeljaw's armor. That little liberty made her want to tear Frenzy away from Steeljaw … she liked Steeljaw, considered him a personal friend, and was admittedly protective of him. He was just such a sweetheart!

However, Steelhaw did not seem to mind that the Decepticreep had his arms around Steeljaw's neck. The castte finally huffed a sigh, said in a too-carefully-controlled tone, "Frenzy won't hurt you, I promise, Carly. Would you give him one chance, for me?"

She asked, "Am I missing something?"

"Yes." Steeljaw grinned. Apparently, she was forgiven already. "But we can't talk about it. Just - give him a chance. Just one. It's all he'll need."

"All he'll need to kill me," she muttered, but she had been around the mechs for many years, and she actually did trust Steeljaw's judgment. He probably did know something she didn't, and he couldn't talk about it. Had Frenzy been an undercover agent or something? That thought occurred to her as an explanation for their behavior. Maybe they'd known each other before - they were certainly being chummy.

Over the years, she had come to suspect that the Autobots had at least one mole. There had been a few times when Jazz or Prowl had intelligence that would have been impossible for them to obtain any other way. Was Frenzy really an Autobot operative, come home to roost? That had some interesting implications for his master's loyalties, as well.

She huffed a sigh at both of them. Clearly, she wasn't on the need-to-know list, which meant her curiosity was going to eat her alive until she figured it out. "Tell you what - both of you stick around, and I'll work with Frenzy."

If she worked with the slagger, maybe she'd get a chance to figure the whole story out!

"Sounds like a deal." Steeljaw smiled. He looked keenly relieved.

"I'm not off the clock until this afternoon," Frenzy put in, "Wheeljack just sent me to the med bay to get some duryllium bolts. I could help ya later today, though."

"We could meet after dinner, for Carly - maybe seven-ish?" Steeljaw suggested. "That will give Carly time to download the software and have a preliminary look at the specs on the visor."

"Works for me." She still didn't like it, though weirdly, Frenzy's comment about being 'on the clock' made her feel marginally better about working with him, for reasons she couldn't totally explain. Maybe it just implied a certain degree of responsibility and professionalism that she hadn't expected.

Who was Frenzy? Now she was intrigued. Steeljaw wasn't likely to let much slip that was top secret, but she decided that she might see what information she could pry out of his brothers. Rewind was a journalist to the core of his being, and she'd never met a journalist yet, of any species, that didn't like to gossip … and sometimes he let slip things he shouldn't, with a wink and a grin and a cheerful, "Oops! But don't tell anyone!"

The sound of shuffling, sliding, uneven metal footsteps warned her of the arrival of the other Decepticon, the one who truthfully scared her far more than Frenzy did. She looked up - way up - as Soundwave swayed through the door.

He was so visibly unstable that she didn't want to get within falling distance of him. He stumbled and staggered as he moved, catching his balance with one hand against the door, then again by grabbing onto a medical berth. In his other hand, he had somebody's arm.

Frenzy's face lit up when he saw his master. "Hey, Boss!" He said, running across the room. Soundwave sat down at a work bench, and Frenzy scrambled up onto it next to him.

Bemused, she watched as Frenzy smiled up at him his master. There was trust and real affection between them. She hadn't expected that Soundwave would be worthy of trust from anyone, or that Frenzy might care about anyone or anything but his own aft. He had always seemed to be a bit on the nastily aggressive side whenever she'd encountered him in the past.

She also wasn't expecting it when Steeljaw smoothly jumped up onto the desk and sprawled out next to the arm. He produced a socket wrench from his subspace and proceeded to assist Soundwave with getting the armor off. Soundwave seemed surprisedby Steeljaw's help, particularly when Steelie casually ducked under his arm, back brushing against his wrist, to reach another nut.

She wondered what Soundwave was thinking. Aggressive thoughts, perhaps? She'd had an unfortunate first-hand view of Soundwave in combat a few times. He wasn't aggressive so much as cool and calculating. He scared her in ways the psychotically aggressive Decepticons didn't!

Steeljaw ignored Soundwave's surprise, and casually kept working with the same competence she saw him display when helping one of the Autobots.

"Whose arm is that?" She asked, finally, not recognizing it.

"Hmm?" Steeljaw frowned at it. "I'm not sure. Ratchet's got Soundwave parting out all our salvage. He told Frenzy it's good therapy for him to do some work like this. I think this came from a battle on Cybertron, quite awhile ago. Must've been a Decepticon. I don't recognize it."

"I recognize it," Frenzy said, casually. "I think it's Swindle's. Hook was furious that he had to build him a new one."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Optimus lopped it off with his energon sword." Steeljaw pointed out a cluster of electronics. "There's quite a few useful circuits here, and everything from the elbow down should be salvageable."

"Optimus kicked aft in that fight," Frenzy said, in what sounded like real appreciation.

Steeljaw chuckled. "Watch it, Frenzy. You'll make me think you've got a crush on him."

"Who doesn't?" Frenzy giggled, much to her astonishment. She would have thought being accused of crushing on Optimus would have been an insult to a Decpeticon - or even a former Decepticon.

"True." Steeljaw agreed, with a smirk. Well, she had to agree they were right, when it came to Optimus. The mech just had charisma. Steeljaw continued, "You know who I think has the biggest crush on him, though?"

"Who?" Frenzy asked.

"Ratchet. He'd just never admit it. Optimus is about the only mech that Ratchet doesn't yell at, though, and Ratchet actually listens when Optimus gives him advice. He doesn't do that for just anyone."

"Seriously?" Frenzy sounded intrigued. "What does Optimus think?"

"Who, Prime?" Steeljaw shook his head in negation. "It's all one-sided. Optimus had one love of his life. She died a long time ago. He's never looked at another mech since. - oh, oops, slag." Steeljaw lifted his head up, clearly listening to something over a comm channel. "Frenzy, I gotta go. Your buddies are coming."

"Huh?"

"We're under attack," Steeljaw clarified.

"Not my buddies!" Frenzy sounded more than a little offended.

"Teasing, shrimp." Steeljaw hopped back down off the desk. "Blaster says that …" a klaxon sounded, for the benefit of the humans on the base, "... that Ratchet will be by to take Soundwave 'n you to the brig. Sorry 'bout that."

"I understand." Frenzy hunched his shoulders a bit. "You can't trust me n' Soundwave yet."

"I'd trust you." Steeljaw countered, "But … yeah. We can't."

Soundwave had stood up at the sound of the klaxon. Clearly, he knew what it meant, and he shifted unsteadily now, looking about. .

"Be careful, Mouser." Frenzy, very much to her astonishment, hopped down off the desk after the other cassette, and hugged Steeljaw. "Don't get yourself killed on me."

Steeljaw whirled about and ran for the door, just as Ratchet entered. Ratchet glanced at her and then said without preamble, "Get a couple crash kits out. We've already taken some casualties - Prowl's down. C'mon, Soundwave. Let's go." He reached for Soundwave's elbow, clearly intending to guide him out of the room.

Soundwave resisted, digging in his feet, and balking. He was larger than Ratchet, and when Ratchet tried to muscle him forward by sheer strength, Soundwave stumbled and nearly took both of them to the floor.

"Slag, I don't have time for this!" Ratchet snarled. "Frenzy, got any suggestions?"

"He's panicking. I don't know why." Frenzy backed up, eyes narrowing. "No, wait, I get it. I think he's worried we'll be separated. He'll follow me …" Frenzy headed for the door.

That did it. Ratchet lurched out the door, hauling Soundwave along at very close to a run, as Frenzy trotted before them. Soundwave was making staticky noises, and very obviously didn't want to lose sight of his symbiont.

Huh. Carly shook her head, confused by the whole incident, then went to get the kits that Ratchet had mentioned. They were probably going to be very busy in the med bay for the next several hours. 

* * *

Frenzy sat in silence, arms around his knees, listening to the sounds of the battle. He wasn't sure who was winning - but he could feel the deep percussive whoomph of heavy ordinance, and the occasional shout of an Autobot that filtered down through the ventilation shafts. The med bay was two levels above them, and Ratchet's occasional oath or Skyfire's deeper rumbles were clear enough to Cybertronian sensors.

Soundwave tentatively reached a hand out, trying to coax him into his dock. It would be safer, Frenzy knew, if things really went south. This ship was half buried under a mountain. He could envision the entire mountain collapsing on them, crushing the ship, burying them under hundreds of feet of dirt and rock … killing Soundwave … trapping him inside Soundwave … still alive …

He whined as a feeling of claustrophobia rose. He wanted out. He hopped up, pacing restlessly. It was thirty of his strides from one end of the cell to the other and back. He wanted out. He was trapped. Trapped.

A nightmare flash of light. A terrible sense of loss. A concussion that flipped him off his feet.

He shuddered, remembering that moment when five sparks bound to his ceased to be.

He was two strides from one wall. He slammed a fist into it when he reached it, "Let me out!"

He wished for his pile drivers.

"Out!"

He'd let them lock him in, willingly. Had cooperated with Ratchet to coax Soundwave into the cell. Even now, he ttrusted Ratchet to let them out, later.

And then he'd heard the explosions.

"I want out!" He couldn't help it. He pounded on the wall as panic surged through his systems.

What if they lost?

A close explosion shook the cell, transmitted through the hearth with enough force to vibrate the ground. The lights flickered. His fans stuttered.

What if the Autobots lost? Would the Decepticons let him out, or just offline him and Soundwave on the spot? They were trapped. Cornered. Helpless. What if the 'cons just left them here!

He wished desperately for his pile drivers, his rifle, his siblings. He hit the wall as hard as he could, and didn't even leave a dent. "Let me out! Please! Don't leave me in here!"

The lights flickered a second time. Was that smoke he smelled? Yes, it was.

A whole new horror occurred to him. What if the ship caught on fire? The fuel tanks were three levels beneath him. He knew that from past exploration of the Ark. They'd be incinerated. It would be a hell of a way to die. Cybertronians were not impervious to fire, but it was a slow, agonizing death.

He was trapped!

Soundwave made a come here gesture. Soundwave wasn't as frightened as he was, in fact, his master seemed surprisingly calm. Soundwave tapped his chest, shook his head firmly, then made another summoning motion with his hand.

Soundwave wouldn't force him to do something he really didn't want to … and the thought of returning to his dock was absolutely terrifying. He reminded himself that Soundwave had never forced him into anything, had always treated him fairly and with respect, and suddenly spun and ran to his master. Soundwave's arms folded about him protectively, and Frenzy clung to him, suddenly desperate for his reassurance.

Another explosion rumbled through the base, making the floor vibrate. Dust filtered down from the ceiling.

Soundwave stroked his head, his back. He leaned against the wall, and shuttered his eyes, and just sat there with Frenzy in his lap.

He was trapped.

He was with Soundwave.

Soundwave felt like Soundwave. Surprisingly so, actually. He was calm and his emotions clear and coherent.

Pit, he needed a distraction. He fought down an urge to panic a second time. Soundwave's arm tightened around him comfortingly, protectively. He felt dizzy and out of sorts; Rumble and the others should have been a steadying force. It was harder to regulate his mood without their steadying presence, in a situation like this. He hadn't realized, until just now, how much he'd relied on their perceptions.

Soundwave was utterly calm and he tried to focus on that. His master made an encouraging noise, and calmly produced a polishing rag from his subspace. Not too long ago, Ratchet had commented that Soundwave could still do his detailing … the thought that Soundwave apparently planned to polish his plates now struck him as funny, and he giggled.

Soundwave's hands were steady, and felt exactly like they should - firm, confident, capable.

He shuttered his optics, wrapped his arms around his knees, sat in Soundwave's lap, and focused on Soundwave's touch. He tried to pretend this was normal. He could easily summon normal, domestic, routine memories of Soundwave, and his siblings, and time spent in their quarters apart from the rest of the army.

And … in every memory was a reminder of his siblings. He missed them so much.

Soundwave's hand stilled, for a second, and then resumed the steady, even strokes. Soundwave's emotions across the bond felt better than they had since he'd been injured, Frenzy realized, well aware of the irony. Soundwave was wired to provide for and protect his symbionts. He knew that Soundwave felt that he had failed them. It had to feel good to Soundwave to be able to do something for Frenzy now.

Frenzy, who had never been touchy feely, who had never liked cuddling, leaned against Soundwave's chest, shuttered his optics and did not object at all when Soundwave's arms tightened into a silent embrace of support.

They needed each other.

He'd never quite realized how true that was until now. 

* * *

Soundwave wasn't quite in recharge when the brig door slid open, a day later. An Autobot he recognized only slightly - Hot Rod - limped through the door. The young mech's bright colors were singed, and he was missing most of the armor on his thigh. His leg showed signs of temporary repairs, including plates tacked on to support a shattered femoral strut. The young warrior smelled of ozone and energon, and his face had the harsh set of a soldier who'd come fresh off the battle field.

Soundwave tensed, wondering if the kid had come down to the brig to exact retribution. Ratchet might not believe in revenge, but that didn't mean the rest of the army didn't bear grudges. It had been a hell of a battle.

Frenzy was soundly recharging in his arms, head resting on Soundwave's shoulder. He nudged the kid awake when his emotional alarm didn't rouse him, and Frenzy sleepily lifted his head up. He saw Hot Rod, registered Soundwave's mood, and then scrambled down. Arms folded, jaw set, he glared at the Autobot. His anxiety spiked, matching Soundwave's response.

Hot Rod smirked and said something teasing. Frenzy's anxiety turned to real anger.

Soundwave was not happy about that reaction. He was concerned that Frenzy might say something provoking. Soundwave couldn't speak, but he could hit Frenzy with a burst of static across their bond.. Frenzy jumped, whirled, and stared at him. Guilt replaced the anger, and then was followed by a flare of grief and loss and general misery. Soundwave was rocked by that response, and unsettled by Frenzy's sense of guilt.

Well, he could worry about Frenzy's thoughts later. In the past, he would have issued a quick, silent, rebuke for letting the Autobot provoke him. He spat static again, hoping Frenzy would understand. Frenzy's temper was something he constantly struggled with, though he had far more control over it now than he had when they'd first met - when he'd been a sullent, resentful, angry youngling who'd sold himself into slavery to survive.

Frenzy clearly understood Soundwave's intent, because he huffed a sigh, crossed his arms, turned back to the Autobot, and said something that sounded more-or-less polite. The Autobot, to Soundwave's dismay, burst out laughing and that provoked a reaction perilously close to rage from Frenzy, who glared and balled both fists up.

Then the young Autobot patted Frenzy on the top of the head.

Frenzy slapped his hand aside and his fury morphed into indignant, embarrassed, outrage. Before Soundwave could rebuke him a second time, he snarled something that was undoubtedly rude and crude, then stomped past Hot Rod. Hot Rod made a grab for him, Frenzy ducked with lightning quick reflexes, and Soundwave lunged in his defense, all in one second.

Hot Rod's second grab came up short when Soundwave gripped his shoulder. Soundwave used his much greater bulk to slam the injured soldier against the wall, then rammed his knee into Hot Rod's injured leg, and slammed the heel of his hand into Hot Rod's faceplate in one violent move. He was off balance and unsteady on his feet, but he was also a good bit bigger than Hot Rod, and he'd been a Decepticon for more than half his life. He could brawl with the best of them when the situation required it.

Still, he startled himself by how easily he took the Autobot soldier down. He'd had surprise on his side, and fear for Frenzy - plus combat training that was nearly hardwired into his frame. Now, he leaned his full weight on his forearm, across Hot Rod's throat, pinning him to the wall and threatening damage to his air intakes. Hot Rod, optics wide, stared at him in shock. Frenzy was yelling behind him, in a near panic state.

Slag.

Assaulting his captor probably hadn't been the wisest of moves. Soundwave frantically processed the problem of de-escalating the situation. Hot Rod was known to be a hot head, he recalled, but he wasn't vicious or cruel. The Autobots had treated him well in the time he'd been here. He had been accorded the same care as an honored guest, not a prisoner, until circumstances had dictated that they be locked up for everyone's safety. It was a safe conclusion that the Autobots were under orders not to harm him.

The world was spinning around him as his damaged sensor arrays misfired. He'd managed to ignore that vicious vertigo for a few moments, but he knew he couldn't keep the upper hand once the shock wore off and Hot Rod started seriously fighting back. Even injured, even at two-thirds Soundwave's mass, Hot Rod could defeat him easily. He couldn't keep Hot Rod pinned to the wall forever.

Soundwave, surrender, he thought, grimly. And better to do it now, immediately, now that the threat to Frenzy was lessened. (Though not eliminated - he'd known a few mechs over the years who might shoot Frenzy out of spite, as soon as he released them. He didn't think Hot Rod was one of them, however. The young soldier looked more scared than angry.)

With fear threatening to stall his very spark, he stepped back and released the prisoner. Swaying only a little (he really was getting better at ignoring the vertigo) he lifted his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. Frenzy, behind him, spat some sort of acidic comment. He wished he could tell Frenzy to cease baiting the Autobot… though he had a feeling Hot Rod wouldn't try to touch his symbiont again!

The Autobot soldier scrambled away from both of them, and produced a rifle from his subspace. As he had expected, Soundwave found himself staring down the barrel of a hefty sized gun, and he tensed. At this range, the soldier couldn't miss, that gun was plenty big enough to put a lethal hole in him, and he'd certainly given him plenty of provocation. Frenzy was still screaming obscenities, anger pushing him beyond any fear. His symbiont started to leap forward, probably in his defense, and Soundwave made a frantic grab.

He successfully reached down and caught Frenzy as he rushed past - without getting shot, though the shoulder spat a nervous command at them - and began to back away into the cell, with Frenzy in one hand. Frenzy was quivering with outrage, and issuing undoubtedly vile threats. He tightened his grip on Frenzy's arm to the point of pain, and finally got his point across. Frenzy fell silent, but was still incensed.

He thought if he backed into the cell, Hot Rod could close the door and feel secure. That would de-escalate the situation. He could deal with the fallout later. He'd attacked an Autobot. Certainly, they wouldn't forgive him for that! At the moment, however, he was just trying to avoid further violence.

Two strides from the door he tripped. Unable to accurately balance, he fell backwards in a huge crash of armor. He flung Frenzy free and clear of his fall as he went down; Frenzy, always agile, landed neatly on his feet and then slid into the wall with a crash of his own. Horrified, he expected Frenzy to leap to the attack. So, clearly, did Hot Rod, whose gun wavered between the two of them. He waited for a blast, systems stalling in terror for Frenzy. Frenzy, perhaps fortunately, had been stunned by the fall and his eyes were flickering as his systems reset themselves. In about two nanoclicks he was going to be back on his feet and fighting, however.

The door to the brig slid open and Red Alert and Prowl both ran in. Red Alert snarled something that made Hot Rod jerk his gun towards the ceiling. Prowl's comment that followed was probably more scathing and less angry, and it made Hot Rod's mouth twist into an unhappy scowl. Red Alert stabbed a finger at an obvious security camera, high on one wall, and proceeded to address the young soldier with clear ire.

Prowl, meanwhile, had turned his attention to Frenzy. In a carefully controlled voice, he asked Frenzy something. Frenzy calmed instantly, angry but no longer out of control. Soundwave relaxed, just a little, as Frenzy jerked his chin upwards, folded his arms, and answered Prowl's questions in a civil tone.

Soundwave was stunned when Prowl then reached down offered him a hand up. Hot Rod's weapon disappeared, and he said something to Frenzy that made Frenzy smirk. Probably, it was an apology, and probably, Frenzy was being less than gracious. Soundwave spat a burst of static at him in rebuke.

Frenzy sighed, and uttered a phrase that sounded a lot more sincere, with several glances in Soundwave's direction. Soundwave wished he could praise the kid for his control, though he supposed Frenzy could tell he approved from the wide open bond between them. Frenzy struggled so much with keeping that temper under control. Strong emotions, both positive and negative, were just simply part of Frenzy's spark. It said something about Prowl's aura of cool confidence that he'd defused Frenzy's fury so quickly.

After pulling him back to his feet, Prowl looked up at Soundwave with a long, measuring stare. Soundwave coolly returned the look from behind his visor, noting that the shorter mech had fresh weld marks in multiple spots. Then, after flicking his doorwings back with a decisive move, Prowl addressed Frenzy again. Frenzy's emotions changed to sudden pride and a glow of bright pleasure, but tinged strongly with worry. Red Alert, meanwhile, had snapped one final scathing comment at Hot Rod - who, with clear reluctance, offered Soundwave his arm and shoulder to lean on.

Frenzy was deeply amused now. Soundwave inferred that Hot Rod had just gotten in considerable trouble, and had received the lecture of a lifetime from the security director. Still, he hesitated before reaching out for the young solder's arm. Soundwave was capable of walking, if a bit unsteadily. He considered spurning the offer. However, he suspected that the officers were trying to prove to Hot Rod that he was not a threat unless maltreated, or his symbiont was in danger. Somewhat reluctantly (he wasn't convinced that Hot Rod wasn't a threat) he reached out and rested a hand on the soldier's shoulder.

Hot Rod, body very stiff, radiating unease, headed slowly for the door. Prowl padded behind them. Frenzy trotted reassuringly close to his side, at sufficient distance to dodge if he fell, but not so far that that Soundwave couldn't keep track of him.

As soon as they left the brig it was obvious that the Autobots had been in a truly nasty battle. They passed several soldiers with varying degrees of damage, including Jazz, who was missing his visor and had a shattered optic and misaligned jaw. Prowl stopped them briefly to speak to Jazz and put a concerned hand on his shoulder. Jazz smirked crookedly, said something that sounded sarcastic, and drew a line across his throat with one finger.

Soundwave might have been worried by that gesture if it didn't provoke a laugh from Frenzy. He decided that comment and gesture was probably along the lines of, Yeah, but you should've seen the other guy!

When they got close to the med bay, they started seeing mechs sitting or lying in the hall, waiting to be seen. Much to his shock, one of the injured was Optimus Prime himself, who was leaning against an energon smeared wall. He had a drip in his arm and his optics were shuttered in apparent exhaustion or sedation. He'd taken some heavy damage, with one leg mangled from the knee down and an arm nearly blown off.

Optimus's optics lit as they approached. He started to straighten up, and Prowl growled something very firm at him. He slumped back against the wall, then beckoned Frenzy over with a curl of the fingers of his good hand.

Soundwave stopped, watching, as Optimus rested a hand on Frenzy's shoulder. He wasn't concerned that Optimus would hurt Frenzy, but he was curious. Somewhat to his surprise, Frenzy didn't object to Optimus's touch overly much. Optimus said something in a low tone to Frenzy, whose mood swelled with pride and pleasure. Optimus squeezed his shoulder, and then said something to Hot Rod that made Hot Rod bark a surprised laugh.

He found himself bemused by Frenzy's reaction. Whatever Optimus had said to the kid was very flattering, and honest and well-earned praise was probably the quickest way to get Frenzy's cooperation and loyalty. Optimus was lucky he wasn't another carrier; he would have not tolerated that sort of interaction with his symbiont from someone like Blaster!

However, the fact that Optimus Prime was sitting on his aft in a corridor full of injured mechs worried him. He would have assumed that Optimus would be one of the first to be treated, unless they were still doing battle triage. Under battle triage conditions, you fixed the mechs with easily repaired damage first, then the critical cases, and then time consuming repairs of mid-level injuries like Optimus's. At least, that was the theory. Soundwave knew very well that Megatron would have been the first in the med bay, regardless of circumstances. It didn't appear that Optimus was about to offline, but he was certainly in rough shape, and he was sitting with the troops.

Frenzy reached up and rested a hand on Optimus's forearm. It was a familiar gesture, and spoke of trust and even a hint of friendship between them. It also caused a ripple of reaction to flow down the corridor of injured mechs.

Optimus gave Frenzy a gentle shove in the direction of the med bay, and smiled.

They need our help, he realized. That would explain why Prowl and Red Alert had been so quick to leap to his defense, and why Frenzy was suddenly so full of pride.

His guess seemed right, too. When he stepped through the sliding doors he realized that the scene was one of mass chaos and devastation. Ratchet was nowhere in sight. Wheeljack was up to his elbows in the red Lamborghini twin's mangled chassis. Bumblebee, of all mechs, was welding on Skyfire's wing - and doing a sloppy job of it, but the yellow minibot looked like he was uninjured and maybe anyone who could hold a torch was being put to work on repairs. All three of the adult humans that associated with the Autobots were clustered together over an unconscious Tracks, discussing some sort of a problem in urgent voices.

He … could help. That was doubtless why he was here. They were short on staff, long on injuries, and Ratchet knew damn well that he had a fair amount of engineering and medical training. Ratchet was a pragmatic mech, and probably saw him as just another pair of available hands.

Soundwave surveyed the room, decided that Skyfire's wing was probably the most critical repair, given that Skyfire was their air ambulance, and he was willing to bet that they still had wounded out in the field. He lurched over and held his hand out for the welding torch. Bumblebee was making quite a mess of that weld.

The little minibot gave him an alarmed look.

Skyfire, who was face down on a berth, lifted his head, saw Soundwave, and said something reassuring to Bumblebee. Bumblebee, somewhat reluctantly, handed the torch over.

It appeared that Skyfire had taken a laser rifle blast to his right wing. Soundwave peered through the rent metal at the inner struts, which looked untouched, then proceeded with the patch job. It wasn't going to be pretty, but it was a quick repair and would get Skyfire back in the air.

Fifteen minutes later, Skyfire ran out the door. His hefty weight shook the floor as he hurried for the exit. Soundwave had apparently been right when he guessed that Skyfire was needed to recover the wounded.

Bumblebee also hurried to the door and summoned someone inside. It was Silverbolt, who stopped short when he saw Soundwave standing next to the berth. Wheeljack looked up and barked a command at Silverbolt, who gave Soundwave one long look, Wheeljack an even longer look (Soundwave guessed they might have had a quick discussion by radio) then laid down on the berth. He'd taken some damage to one of his hip joints.

Soundwave hesitated, unsure if he should really get started on something like this. He felt he was capable of the repair, as long as he had something to sit on, but he was still uneasy for a multitude of reasons. A moment later, however, Ratchet appeared and pushed a stool over to him. The medic stood next to him, handed Soundwave a light, and got to work on the repair himself.

Apparently, he just wanted Soundwave to hold the light … and, as it turned out, pull on bits of wire, hold parts in place, and generally be a second set of hands. Soundwave, who had multiple degrees in engineering and who could and did design frames from the protoform out, suddenly felt completely confident. He knew what Ratchet needed to do, and what he needed to do to be helpful.

Halfway through the repair, Ratchet flashed him a quick smile, reassuring in its honesty. It was clear from Ratchet's expression that his help was valued and appreciated. Behind his mask, he found himself trying not to smile back.

Then Ratchet's expression changed. The whole mood in the med bay shifted, and Soundwave guessed that they'd heard something over the radio. Ratchet shoved the wrench in his hand at Soundwave, then turned towards the door, even as the other medics and engineers reacted as well. Skyfire burst through the door, a red minibot in his arms. His chest was streaked with energon, and he shouted something urgent.

Ratchet snarled several commands at his team, and then he, Skyfire, and Wheeljack disappeared into one of the surgical bays. He could hear Ratchet's cursing continue, and the lower reverb of Skyfire's voice, answering in steady tones.

Soundwave quietly returned to the repair on Silverbolt's hip. The minibot was not going to make it. He'd seen the level of damage as they'd entered. Some injuries simply could not be repaired. He wasn't sure why Ratchet was even going to try; others needed him, and Ratchet's efforts would be wasted on the minibot.

He didn't understand the mech.

Ratchet's cursing ceased, for a moment. When he resumed talking, voice muffled by the closed door, there was an urgent note to his voice that spoke of desperation. He was losing this battle, as Soundwave had known he would.

He did not understand Ratchet … but when Ratchet's voice abruptly silenced, and Wheeljack began to speak in a low tone, he knew the inevitable had happened. He looked up from his work as the three emerged from the med bay. Every Autobot stared at them. Ratchet shook his head grimly, then without a word, stalked across the room towards Soundwave.

Silently, Ratchet returned to work on Silverbolt's ravaged hip. He snatched the wrench back from Soundwave's hand without comment, and evident impatience. For a second, Soundwave wondered if he'd done something wrong, then he saw the harsh set of Ratchet's jaw.

Hesitantly, he touched Ratchet on the shoulder. Had he been Ratchet's superior, and Ratchet a Decepticon soldier, he would have told Ratchet to go take a few minutes and regroup. He would help no one if he made errors due to his emotional state. Soundwave thought he could finish up Silverbolt's repairs by himself.

Ratchet whacked his hand aside with a lightning fast motion, and fixed him with a dark scowl. Soundwave took a step backwards, wobbling as he lost his balance. Just as quickly, Ratchet grabbed his arm to steady him. As soon as he was not in danger of crashing to the ground, the medic released him, and then turned silently back to his work on Silverbolt's hip.

Soundwave forced himself to remain calm, and simply picked up a hand light and directed it at the area that Ratchet was working on. Ratchet, who had been efficient and professional earlier, was now surly and snarling, growling commands at his staff, barking orders at the soldiers who hurried in and out with supplies, and snapping irritably at his patients. Soundwave, who'd spent many millenia working directly under Megatron, kept waiting for a blow to be aimed his way, or for a tirade of verbal abuse he couldn't even understand. However, Ratchet never did anything worse than fix him with a dirty look when he was a bit slow to guess which tool Ratchet would need next. He never saw that smile again, but at least Ratchet accepted his assistance for the rest of a very long day.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

An Adjustment of Plans

* * *

Hot Rod had more potential than most, Prowl thought, but sometimes he wanted to dismantle the kid bolt by bolt out of pure frustration. This was one of those times.

"... but he attacked me!"

"I don't care." Prowl ran a hand over his face. He was bone tired, he hurt from head to toe, and there were any number of things he'd rather be doing than dealing with a disciplinary issue. "You rather thoroughly provoked him."

"By what, teasing the kid? I'm not sure Soundwave's got enough firing neural circuits left to understand teasing!" Hot Rod protested.

"Clearly, he does. Also, it's bullying, not teasing, when the subject gets as upset as Frenzy was. He is a prisoner, but that does not give you the right to maltreat him." Prowl folded his arms across his bumper. "And that kid is older than you are."

Hot Rod's mouth twisted into a sharp frown. "I don't understand, Prowl. They're Decepticons. What the frag is Optimus doing?"

"Living his dream. Which, I note, is why we follow him." Prowl himself had misgivings, but at least he did understand why Optimus was reaching a hand of friendship out to Frenzy. It seemed to be working, too. He'd seen a glow of honest pleasure in Frenzy's optics, earlier, when Optimus had asked him if he would help with repairs, and had stressed how much Frenzy was needed.

Hot Rod sighed, folded his arms, and glanced towards Prowl's office door. Prowl made a mental note to talk to Hot Rod about the information he gave away with his body language, at some other time - as aggravating as the kid was, all of the Ark's officers agreed that Hot Rod had real potentia to be a good officer someday. He was just so green sometimes. The young mech complained, "The 'cons ripped us to shreds, Prowl."

A change in subject, Prowl noted. Hot Rod clearly wasn't happy with the presence of the (former, he reminded himself) Decepticons on the base - and he wasn't the only one. Prowl refused to let Hot Rod sidetrack him with his observation on the battle. "Be that as it may - You will assist Frenzy with his assigned work, in addition to your own duties, from the time that we resume a normal work schedule and for three days following that. You will treat him with respect and consideration during that entire time. I believe that Ratchet intends to make use of him in the med bay, so you may be assisting Ratchet. You will converse with him. You will make a real effort to get to know him not as an enemy, but as another mech who is quite close in age to yourself."

Hot Rod growled, "You can't be serious."

"I am completely serious."

"Dude, you just made make friends with the Decepticon a punishment. Sir."

Prowl lifted an optic ridge. "Assisting Frenzy with his work is the punishment. Befriending him is an opportunity."

"You've been drinking Prime's Kool Aid." Hot Rod sighed, saying this without rancor. "Okay, fine. I get it. Make nice with the midget Decepticon and he might become an Autobot someday. Fine. I'll play. I'll give it an honest effort …"

Very quietly, Prowl said, "Do you not believe in our cause? In our dreams?"

Hot Rod froze, and stared at Prowl with stricken optics. Prowl had scored, and he didn't regret it. Finally, Hot Rod admitted, "Yeah. I guess I do."

"Then do not forget our way."

"You sound like Prime."

"I follow Prime for a reason that has far less to do with logic than most would believe, Hot Rod." Prowl sighed, feeling suddenly very old. It had been a terrible battle, with one dead on their side and half a dozen 'cons downed. It had been stupid, with the 'cons launching an all-out assault for no reason that made logical sense - unless he factored in the high likelihood that Megatron was simply behaving illogically, and could be expected to continue to do so.

When Hot Rod had nothing to say to that, Prowl added, "We fight until all are one again. Becoming one begins with us. It begins with small gestures, and living that goal."

Hot Rod frowned. "Okay, sir, I get it."

This time, it sounded like he did.

"Get yourself to the med bay," Prowl said, not unkindly. "You're a priority for repairs. That leg needs some more work before I'd want to send you into combat again."

Hot Rod glanced down at the limb, which was still missing a plate of armor. "Wheeljack welded my strut together with a patch he made from a human car's hood. Wrapped it around the strut and tacked it on. I don't think I'd been down more than two minutes before he was there and working on me."

Prowl sighed. Hot Rod sounded impressed, and was probably happy that he'd been able to return to the fight. Prowl knew the sheer desperation behind that field repair - the 'cons had been tearing them to shreds and he'd ordered Wheeljack to get Hot Rod back in action over tending Optimus, who had been down for the count. At that time, he had not been sure how badly Optimus had been hurt, but he'd needed every gun he had to repel an attempt by the 'cons to breach the Ark's entrance. It had been clear that Optimus could not be quickly returned to combat with a jury-rigged repair.

Ratchet hadn't even objected to that order. Ratchet, ever the pragmatist, had known damn well that if they lost the fight, all of them could die. Sending a mech with a somewhat dubious temporary repair back into combat had been the lesser of many evils this day.

Prowl wondered if Cliffjumper would still be alive if he hadn't ordered Skyfire to return to the med bay for his own repairs. He'd calculated that Skyfire's compromised flying ability could easily lead to Skyfire's demise should he encounter hostile forces in the air. The loss of Skyfire would mean a reduced ability to return mechs swiftly to the med bay. Therefore, it had made sense to have Skyfire repaired before allowing him to transport any more injured. However, the next mech that Skyfire had picked up had been Cliffjumper, and Cliffjumper had died.

"Prowl?" Hot Rod asked. "You okay, sir?"

"Thank you, Hot Rod. I am fine. You need to report to the med bay." Apparently, his suddenly gloomy mood was visible in his expression.

"Yes, sir." Hot Rod looked like he was still worried about Prowl, but he did leave.

Once he was gone, Prowl stared at a datapad without really seeing it. He had just run some favorable calculations regarding a final end to the war. Still, Megatron was getting desperate and desperate mechs did deadly things. As the humans said, he couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to fall. 

* * *

Ratchet had hit the point of strut-bending exhaustion that only came after working non-stop under high stress for nearly twenty-four hours. His optics frizzed as code that was in need of a deep defrag threw a couple errors. He rebooted them twice, then rebooted them a third time when he realized that Soundwave was standing in front of him.

Sometime during the long, long day, Soundwave had found himself a long piece of metal and tacked a handle on it. He was now leaning on his cane with one hand, and holding a full cube of energon out with his other. This was actually the third time that Soundwave had brought him energon.

"Thanks," Ratchet murmured, knowing that Soundwave couldn't understand the word but showed clear signs of comprehending intonation. It was just too far to walk to either his quarters or the rec room to get fuel. His tank was low, but he was even more tired.

Soundwave inclined his head in acknowledgment, then without further reaction, wobbled his way back to a work bench. After they'd gotten Silverbolt's repairs completed, Ratchet had put him to work rebuilding Smokescreen's shattered leg, and it looked like he was well along with that complicated job. He'd judged that was a good task for Soundwave, since it could be done with the leg off and he didn't have to worry as much about hostile interactions between Soundwave and the soldiers.

To say that the Autobots were less than thrilled about the two former 'cons in the med bay was an understatement. Cliffjumper had been part of the Ark's crew since the very beginning. He would be missed deeply, and Soundwave and Frenzy were convenient targets for harsh feelings. Ratchet had to confess that the sight of Soundwave's sigil had roused a little bitter anger in his own spark.

He was unsurprised that Soundwave was almost done with the job, despite it being a tedious and complicated repair. Both Soundwave and Frenzy did neat, precise, efficient work. That was probably a given for Soundwave, given his personality, but Frenzy's ability to focus and his attention to detail was a pleasant surprise.

Ratchet wondered if Frenzy had learned from his master, or if Soundwave had accepted Frenzy as a symbiont because he'd taken the time to get to know the kid first, and had recognized his potential. From a few comments Frenzy had made, he got the impression they'd known each other for a long time before bonding - and that the twins had been considered undesirable by most carriers.

Ironhide's voice behind Ratchet made him jump. The mech growled, "He sure knows where his fuel's coming from."

"Who, Soundwave?" Ratchet blinked in surprise as he turned around. Then he snorted. "You're probably right, but it does guarantee he'll be on his best behavior."

"Eh, let him be, Ironhide." Wheeljack walked up to stand next to Ironhide. "We need Soundwave's help, and I can't say the two of them haven't been handy to have around."

"Yeah, they're making themselves useful, all right." Ironhide glowered. "And taking full advantage of our hospitality. Kid was actually in the rec room earlier."

"I told him to take a break." Ratchet didn't like to hear that note of resentment from an officer. "He has every right to fuel up, Ironhide. And he was there with Skyfire, who was keeping an eye on him."

Ironhide made a skeptical noise. "Yes, but he could do it someplace that is not our rec room. Just sayin'. It's going to cause trouble."

At that moment, with speak-of-the-devil perfect timing, Frenzy walked in, burdened down with a canister of acetylene for welding. Ratchet hoped Frenzy hadn't overheard Ironhide's comments, but suspected he had. Well, the kid wouldn't be surprised by them, and all Frenzy said was, "You should know we're about out of argon, boss."

"I know." Ratchet had been keeping track of that problem all day, though it was a good reminder. "That distributor still hasn't delivered. I've called twice."

Ironhide growled in irritation. "Idiot. People could die if we don't get that gas."

"He said his truck was broke down when I called him a couple hours ago - Optimus had me working on him yesterday too." Frenzy frowned. "I said we could solve that problem, the no truck problem, but … well, I think he's scared of robots and didn't like that idea."

"One wonders why he might be scared of mechs." Ironhide gave Frenzy a significant look.

Frenzy smirked over his shoulder as he set the bottle down in the corner and started hooking it up to a welding rig. "Yeah, well, you give me a lift, we can take advantage of that fear."

Ironhide's expression darkened, clearly not finding it at all funny.

Frenzy turned around and held both hands up defensively. Ratchet noted Frenzy had energon smeared to his elbows, grease on his face, and had somehow acquired a dent in one shoulder. He hoped the dent hadn't been caused by an Autobot. "Hey, I didn't say I'd be rude. Just sayin' if I show up and walk into his office, I bet that order gets filled."

Ironhide would have turned the idea down flat, but Ratchet overrode him, "Frenzy, go. Ironhide, we need that gas."

"Ratch …" Ironhide started to protest.

"Frenzy will behave, or I'll have his bolts. Get going." Ratchet put every ounce of his authority into his voice. "Frenzy, you know the amount that they owe us, right?"

"Yup, I've seen the invoice. Optimus had me working on it before we got attacked." Frenzy looked way up at Ironhide. Then he unsubspaced a cleaning rag and wiped the grease and fuel from his plating with quick, efficient motions. As he did, he said, "You gonna let me ride in you, or squish me flat if I suggest it?"

With a mutter, Ironhide transformed. "Get in. You do anything funny, I'm transforming with you inside, you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah, and then you'd have to explain to Ratchet why my guts are mixed up with your guts." Frenzy scrambled through Ironhide's reluctantly opened passenger door and seated himself. Ratchet was amused to note that he put his seatbelt on before slouching against the window. He also suspected that the quick clean-up that Frenzy had done to himself before getting in Ironhide had something to do with good manners. He wondered if Ironhide, or any of the others who were silently watching the exchange, had caught that automatic gesture.

He realized he'd forgotten to factor Soundwave's reaction to sending Frenzy off with Ironhide in when the carrier made a very worried buzz of static and started to rise from his position at the table. "It's okay," Ratchet said, moving over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ironhide will bring the kid back. I promise."

Soundwave was tense under Ratchet's hand, and he grew even more rigid as Ironhide rolled out through the med bay doors. Ratchet was halfway expecting an explosion of panic from Soundwave, given how much he worried about his symbiont, and how personally reliant he was on him.

After a moment, Soundwave relaxed a little. His masked and visored face turned towards Ratchet. He got the feeling he was being scrutinized. Then, slowly, Soundwave nodded, straightened his backplates, then returned to work on the leg. He was still tense, but he was not actually objecting to Frenzy's departure with an Autobot.

Trust, Ratchet realized. Somehow, someway, he'd earned the Decepticon's personal trust. It was a weird feeling. Soundwave had been their enemy for so very long. And he'd touched a mind, when he'd repaired Soundwave's operating system, that had been full of suspicion that verged on paranoia. Yet he trusted now. It felt, weirdly, like an honor, though he wasn't sure why he should be honored by the warm regard of a Decepticon.

Confused, he patted Soundwave's shoulder, and then stepped back, suddenly reluctant to get too close. And … he was a 'con. They'd lost Cliffjumper. He felt guilty for being nice to a Decepticon - former Decepticon, he reminded himself - as if it was a betrayal of all those lives that had slipped through his fingers in a surgical bay, and all the friends he'd lost. It was all very confusing.

"Get back to work!" He growled at his staff, when he realized he was being watched. "Anyone who slacks off gets to clean the damned med bay from top to bottom onight before recharging!" 

* * *

Frenzy hid his nerves by leaning against Ironhide's door, stretching his legs out before him, and folding his arms. He managed to look cool and casual until they were a hundred feet down the hall, which was when they passed a small form curled up on a pallet, awaiting his repairs.

He straightened up, studying his … well, his lover, though it still seemed strange to think of himself as somebody's lover. He already knew Steeljaw would be fine, but Steeljaw had quite a lot of damage, some of which looked painful. He was sedated, and Eject and Rewind were both sitting with him. Steeljaw's head was in Rewind's lap, and Rewind looked like he was in recharge. Eject had his knees tucked to his chest and was curled up against Steeljaw's back, laying on his side, blue optics staring dully into space. All three of them looked pretty beat up. He didn't see the twins or Ramhorn.

He wanted to be there, sitting with them … except he didn't know what sort of welcome he'd get from Steeljaw's siblings, plus there was work to be done, and it would definitely raise suspicions with the other Autobots if he showed too much attention to Steeljaw. He had not even dared bring the three of them energon, though he'd wanted to.

"Where's Blaster, anyway? And his other cassettes?"

Ironhide grumbled, "What do you care?"

He very nearly snapped something truly rude. He was exhausted and worried and he was trying his best to be helpful. He managed to be reasonably civil, however, and simply came back with a mildly annoyed, "Why do you care what I care?"

"Looking for a new master?"

That stung. He balled his fists up and glared at Ironhide's dashboard, in lieu of a face to shoot an evil look at. "Never!"

"Then what do you care?"

"Because," he hissed, "I wasn't sure if he'd survived. l know what it's like to have that sort of loss and I was worried about them."

"What do you care about Autobots?" The other mech demanded.

"Oookay, you're as stupid as I thought." Frenzy knew the words weren't wise, but anger flared. He'd been busting his aft all day and Ironhide had the gall to ask if he cared? It was rude.

Silence, from the Autobot, reigned for several minutes. He waited for an explosion of temper, well aware of his vulnerable position. Ironhide wasn't exactly the most warm-fuzzy of 'bots. Finally, however, in a grumpy tone of voice rivalling Ratchet at his worst, Ironhide said, "They're working with Perceptor to rebuild our communications array. It got slagged up prettty good. They're fine."

Frenzy ran a hand over his face. For some reason he was compelled to answer, "I like them, okay? I know what it's like to lose people you're bonded to. I was just worried about them."

"You like 'em?" Ironhide sounded surprised.

Frenzy shrugged. "They remind me of my siblings, okay? Who are all dead." He managed not to add, because of you people only at the last second, biting his words off with a scowl.

"I'm sorry," Ironhide replied, after a moment. Perhaps Frenzy had let just a little more emotion into his words than he'd really intended, but Ironhide's apology sounded sincere. However, then Autobot added, "Didn't realize you were a sentimental glitch."

"Hey!" Frenzy protested, stung a bit at first. Then he realized that it was a friendly overture of sorts, and he snorted, "Didn't you know? All 'cons are sparkless killers."

"Figured that out a long time ago, kiddo." Ironhide sounded rueful now.

They traveled in silence after that, and Frenzy wondered if Ironhide really meant those words. Did he really think all 'cons were sparkless killing machines? Worse, how much truth was there in that assumption? He wasn't stupid, and he couldn't help contrast how the Autobots treated each other - and him! - to what he was used to among the 'cons.

He hunched down in the seat a little bit lower, suddenly glad that Ironhide had no more questions for him. He had a lot to think about. 

* * *

"... and if you threaten them, I will terminate you, runt," Ironhide said, concluding a very long (and unnecessary, Frenzy thought) lecture on appropriate behavior. He rolled into the warehouse's parking lot, just as one of the company's own vehicles was leaving.

"Wonder if that's our delivery?" Frenzy said.

"They said their truck was broken down, didn't they?" Ironhide growled.

Frenzy twisted around in the seat. The truck was headed in the wrong direction, turning left instead of right, towards the Ark's remote location. It had been a long two hour drive to the welding supply warehouse. After a second, he turned his attention back to scan the parking lot. Another delivery truck was in the process of being loaded … and there was a jeep in the parking lot that looked rather familiar.

"Slag," he growled.

"What?" Ironhide reacted with alarm to Frenzy's low groan of disgust.

"You got two choices, 'Hide. Gimme a weapon, or not." He reached to unbuckle the seatbelt. At first, it wouldn't come unlatched, but when Swindle exploded into his root mode, the belt snapped loose on his own, and he found himself unceremoniously dumped to the ground in a clatter of metal on asphalt, even as Ironhide rapidly transformed and stood up.

"You knew about this?" Ironhide demanded, suspiciously, as Frenzy scrambled to his feet and looked for cover.

"Slag no." He edged away from Ironhide, assuming that 'Hide's choice was 'no weapons for Frenzy' and figuring Ironhide was about to become a target. Swindle didn't have cover, but he had something better - every 'con knew that an Autobot wouldn't fire on a mech who had an occupied building full of humans behind him. He snapped, "Figured you guys'd have done more to secure your supply chain!"

That got him a low growl. Then, somewhat to his surprise, Ironhide unsubspaced a hand blaster and tossed it to him, even as Swindle snarled at him, "Traitorous little glitch!"

"Oh, like you're one to talk." He caught the blaster. To Ironhide, it was small enough to wield in one hand. He knew he was going to have a little more trouble with wielding it! Gun in hand, he bolted for the only cover he saw, which was a low drainage ditch at the edge of the parking lot. It was Frenzy sized; Ironhide had no practical cover and no way to shoot back. He could see humans peeking out of the windows.

Swindle knew exactly what he was doing, too. The glitch was smirking broadly and taking his time, talking trash at Ironhide who was returning the insults with enthusiasm.

Frenzy gave the weapon he'd been given a quick once over, noted the model, and suppressed a small pang of alarm. That thing had a kick that was going to knock him on his aft if he wasn't careful.

:Kid, you think he's alone?: Ironhide asked.

:Ain't picking up any other power signatures.: He flattened himself farther down into the ditch, tracking the movements of the other two mechs by sound rather than sight. He had no desire to get his head blown off. :I'm sure more will be here quick enough, though.:

:You think there might be more around here and cloaked?:

:That's an Autobot thing.: He managed not to make that observation sound too much like an insult.

The two mechs were still exchanging insults. Swindle sounded somewhat distracted, though probably not as ticked off as Ironhide was trying for. Ironhide, no fool, likely wanted Swindle to charge him so that he'd move away from the building full of humans and give Ironhide a clean line of fire. Swindle, meanwhile was holding his ground, probably waiting for backup.

Frenzy was willing to bet that Swindle had been squatting in the company's parking lot for days, pressuring them to delay delivery of supplies to the Autobots. If the Autobots ran out of welding gases, they'd be crippled in their ability to make repairs. He couldn't blame the humans for cooperating with the 'cons, either … not as squishable as they were.

Probably would've been me'n Rumble, putting the squeeze on the humans, before … he terminated that line of thought ruthlessly, before the pain at the thought of his twin could grow too intense. He'd enjoyed playing the role of a thug, as required, scaring squishies into cooperation. Cowardly creatures that they were, it was easy, and entertaining, work.

Well, right now, he just needed to worry about getting his own aft out of this alive. Once Swindle dealt with Ironhide, he'd be the next target. If Swindle's backup arrived, he'd probably end up terminated without hesitation by whoever the big 'cons with the big guns were. Really should have kept my sigil, he thought, with miserable fear, coulda claimed they had me held prisoner …

Ironhide wasn't having much luck getting Swindle to move away from the building, though the exchange of insults was growing ever-more entertaining. Frenzy gritted his dental plates and stuck his head briefly up, and verified that the drainage ditch ran along the outer edge of the parking lot, out of sight around the edge of the building. That gave him a plan, and he scurried down it on all fours, wincing at the scraping noise his hands and knees made on the cement.

Swindle was too busy describing Ironhide's ancestry in detail to hear Frenzy's progress. Once out of sight of Swindle - but not Ironhide - he ran for the building. The back door was unsurprisingly locked. He wrenched the doorknob open with a quick twist of his wrist and slipped inside, where he was met with the tiny muzzle of a nine millimeter handgun, aimed at his face.

Faster than a human eye could follow, he batted the gun aside. It went off with a loud report, and the bullet whanged off the cinderblock wall behind him. He grabbed the man's hand, shoved the gun higher, aiming it towards the ceiling, as the squishy tried to wrench it out of his grasp. The hand gun didn't represent that much of a threat to him, but it could destroy an optic - or injure another squishy, which would probably torque his Autobot bosses off.

Inspired by an entertaining human movie he'd once seen, he held his own blaster up. The thing was bigger than the man's head, with a muzzle two inches across. He hoped the man didn't notice he couldn't hold the gun and press the trigger with one hand … his fingers weren't long enough. "That's not a gun," he drawled, nailing a certain faux Australian accent, "this is a gun."

The man let go of his little pistol and held both hands up in the air.

"That's better," he said, grinning with appreciation of the man's terror. Yep, he could still scare a squishy into wetting himself. "You alone in here?"

The man shook his head. "M... m … secretary …"

"You have two seconds to get her and scram." He pointed at the door. "And take the gun!" He kicked the weapon back to the man. "You shoot me with it, I shoot back. You shoot Swindle with it, you might slow him down enough to save her ass."

Well, maybe. If they were very lucky. More likely, they'd just function as a distraction which could save Frenzy's life, but whatever.

The secretary didn't need to be 'gotten' - she bolted out from under a desk with a squeak of terror that was almost cute, and ran faster than he would have believed possible for the door. The man grabbed his pistol and bolted after her, half stumbling through the door, and leaving the acrid stink of urine behind. Foul creatures, squishies!

He ran after them, something that made them move even faster, though he wasn't actually chasing them. He just wanted to get out of the line of fire, too. He suspected that Ironhide might be more willing to hit him than he was to hit the humans! :Building's clear, Ironhide. 'Get 'im!:

Ironhide reacted with a startled, :Wha …?:

:All humans out. Get 'em!: What had Ironhide thought he was up to? Squishing squishies? Surely not, Frenzy wasn't that stupid.

A firefight promptly erupted behind him, though he wasn't sure who shot first. The humans scrambled down into the drainage ditch with frightened animal cries. He slid after them, cement raising sparks as he scraped his armor against the ground. He dodged into a culvert that went under the driveway into the parking lot, crouching in half an inch of fetid water, and the humans pressed in after him.

"Stay behind me," he snapped, not wanting them to get in his line of sight. Impatiently, he batted the male aside with one hand, shoving the man backwards, when he was slow to react.

"I am armed," the man pointed out.

He glanced at the little gun, which was barely more than a toy. "Aim for the optics," he advised, sarcastically. "I hope you're a good shot."

At that instant, one Swindle-shaped leg skidded down into the culvert right in front of him. He reacted instantly, bracing the Ironhide-sized hand blaster against his shoulder with one hand and pressing the trigger with the other. The recoil almost knocked him over. Swindle screamed and went down hard, foot mangled from the ankle down. Energon spurted through the air in glistening arcs. The 'con howled again, twisted around, and aimed his gun at Frenzy. At that range, he couldn't possibly miss, and Frenzy was trapped in the culvert, unable to dodge aside …

Ironhide discharged a plasma cannon, with a thunderous roar, at Swindle's hand. The gun, and Swindle's arm from the elbow down, vaporized. The heat washed over Frenzy and the EM from that blast whited his optics out briefly.

Two seconds later, a nanoclick after he rest his optics, a second large 'con joined the fight … from his vantage under the bridge, Frenzy got a good glimpse of Vortex's legs as Vortex landed next to Swindle, shot at Ironhide, and then grabbed the 'con and leaped aloft. There was a noise of clattering gears and then a thump of helicopter rotors as Vortex beat a retreat.

Frenzy let a long sigh out through his vents. He had not been sure he was going to survive this fight. :Thanks for the save, 'Hide,: he said, giving credit where credit was due.

Ironhide knelt down and peered under the bridge. "You guys okay?"

The human man nodded. "S... sorry about the f... fuel, he said he'd kill us if we t-told you."

"Nah, we understand." Ironhide's optics were keen on Frenzy. "You saved them, kiddo."

He shrugged, more than a little self conscious. It hadn't been his intent. They'd just been a liability he needed to get out of the way so Ironhide would be able to fight. A 'con wouldn't have worried about human casualties, but he knew the Autobots did. However, he wasn't about to admit that he didn't care about the humans!

The female touched his arm, making him jump. "Thank you," she murmured, suddenly. He realized her intention two klicks before she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. "I have kids … thank you. Thank you so much."

The gratitude was real. The look of bemused appreciation from Ironhide was real. They were pleased with him. He hadn't expected that …

Awkwardly, he subspaced the blaster and then patted her on the back. He'd never touched a squishy who wasn't terrified of him before. She felt warm, soft, with muscles sliding under pliant skin, and covered over by thin fabric. He smelled her perfume, sweetly floral, and it made it think of Steeljaw and his well known appreciation for pleasant human scents. Her breath whispered against his cheek as she repeated her thanks a couple times more, and then she pulled back. "I have kids," she repeated. "They'd have been without a mom."

Past her shoulder, he could see the ruins of the building they'd been in. It was starting to burn, and it appeared at least one of the mechs had fallen on it. It had also taken several good blasts from energy weapons. They would have died, had they remained in that building.

He shrugged, honestly at a loss as to what to say at first. They were so fragile, so delicate, and he'd never had one need him before.

Finally, however, he glanced up at Ironhide. "We, uh, still need that gas. Is it in …?" he gestured at the burning building. Ironhide growled something under his breath that sounded like an obscenity, not quite fully articulated.

"No, no, it's in the warehouse around back." The man shook his head. "I'm sorry. He said he'd kill us … I'm sorry."

The woman repeated, with fervant gratitude, "Thank you."

He'd never had a human need him before. He told himself it was silly. What did he care about humans?

"Thank you," the woman said again, gripping both of his hands with her delicate, soft fingers. She was standing so trustingly close to him, and her gratitude was surprising to Frenzy. He was used to anger, fear, and cowardice from humans. Suddenly, he was glad he'd saved her. It felt like he'd done the right thing, and it had been a long time since he'd felt that way about anything.

"You're welcome," he murmured, unaccountably embarrassed and self conscious. "I, uh, I'm glad you're both okay."

:Kid,: Ironhide said, :Ya did good.:

The praise made him grin. He'd never expected to hear that sort of compliment from Ironhide, one of the most effective warriors he knew on either side of the war. He was practically glowing with pride as he climbed out of the ditch.

Soundwave would be proud of me too, he thought, as he walked with light steps beside the two humans. He'd think I handled the situation very well. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

An Adjustment of Plans 

* * *

Ratchet knew something was wrong when Soundwave went rigid. The mech was sitting on his couch, sipping a cube of energon, when suddenly he sat up, hissed static, and stopped moving. For half a second he was afraid that Soundwave was having another crash, but a quick ping of the datapad clipped to the inside of Soundwave's chestplate confirmed his operational status was stable.

Soundwave balled his hands, and tensed his jaw. His mouth, which he had exposed while he drank, pressed into a thin, dismayed line.

He sent a quick question to Red Alert, :Is Ironhide having an issue?:

:Yep. He ran into a 'con at the welding supply warehouse:

Ratchet was nearly as alarmed as Soundwave looked. Which 'con? He sat down on the couch next to Soundwave, worried for both Ironhide and Frenzy. He patched himself into the command frequency and monitored the fight. Ironhide kept up a running (and expletive laced) commentary as he dealt with the problem.

He was relieved to learn it was Swindle. Ironhide could handle Swindle, unless Swindle had backup or came up with some sort of ugly surprise.

How much worse, he thought, must it be for Soundwave, who could feel his symbiont's fear, but could not know the cause. Would Soundwave think that the Autobots were hurting him? The thought was too terrible to contemplate. Soundwave had trusted his judgment in sending Frenzy with Ironhide.

Hesitantly, he put a hand on that broad, armored back, wanting to communicate his concern. Soundwave shuddered, but didn't pull away. His systems were understandably running fast, fans humming, heat rolling off his plating as a sign of his stress. Ratchet was frustrated by his inability to offer Soundwave words of comfort. Absently, he considered offering him high grade instead, but the mech might take it wrong if Ratchet didn't share … and as much as he desperately wanted a drink, if either of them got hurt (or if Swindle did, and was subsequently captured) he was going to be back in the med bay in a very short while. He'd just gotten done with the truly urgent repairs, after more than thirty-six hours in the med bay.

Soundwave made a staticky noise, and Ratchet winced as the Ironhide's running commentary on the situation included a snarled, "Fragger just blew his leg off!"

For a second, he assumed that Frenzy had been injured, but the fight raged for a minute more, and then Ironhide said, "Slaggers got away. Vortex just took off with Swindle."

"Status report?" Prowl's voice, by contrast, had remained cool and controlled.

"'M fine. Few dents. Kid looks okay. He blew Swindle's leg right off at the ankle. Daaaaamn, I'd forgotten what a crazy glitch Frenzy is."

"And the humans?"

"Fine, Prowl. Nobody's hurt beyond a few dents and bruises. Well, nobody on our side."

"How did Frenzy get a weapon?" Prowl demanded.

"Gave 'im one." Ironhide snorted. "Figured he'd scamper off and hide somewhere, but I didn't want him defenseless. He did good, Prowl. Got the humans out of the building, got 'em to safety, and defended 'em. Sure didn't expect that."

Neither had Ratchet, frankly. Frenzy, it seemed, was just full of surprises.

Ratchet met Soundwave's visored gaze. Soundwave was smiling. Soundwave couldn't know what had happened, but he was pretty sure Frenzy was proud of himself right now. Soundwave couldn't miss the implications of pride following fear and anger.

He broke in on the command line, :Either of you need immediate medical attention when you get back?:

:Nah. Neither of us got hit. Still can't believe Frenzy saved the slagging humans … awww, and the girl's huggin' him. You guys oughta see his face.:

:Send me the video later,: Ratchet said, with some amusement. 

* * *

When Frenzy returned to the base, he gave the hand blaster to Ironhide. As he did, he grumbled, "I feel naked without a weapon."

The big mech took it back, looked at it for a second, crouched, then said, "I can't let you keep this. It's too big for you, anyway."

He had not been expecting any sort of concessions when it came to his right (or lack thereof) to bear arms among the Autobots. He'd carried some sort of weapon since he was a sparkling, and the most dangerous thing he had in his subspace now was a laser scalpel that he'd been using for repairs, earlier. While it could certainly be deadly, it wasn't exactly the most effective of weapons. What was he supposed to do if someone attacked him, say, "Please bend over and hold still while I cut your head off?"

Yeah. Not gonna work well. One of the basic principles of surviving a fight when you were a quarter the average Cybertronian height was to use ranged weapons.

He sighed, and admitted, "I'm worried if the 'cons attack they'll be coming after me as a traitor. I'm pretty much defenseless."

"Yeah, ah get that. You did good today, kid, an' we'll look out for you. Keep doin' good I'll see what I can do when the time's right."

He found he didn't even mind too much when Ironhide patted him on the arm before rising. Ironhide's approval was obvious, and to be approved of by such a big, tough, warrior felt amazing. He'd been a bit of a laughing stock to the Decepticon warriors on too many occasions. They'd never made fun of him to his face, but he was an expert at espionage, and he damn well knew what they said about him when they thought he couldn't hear.

Rumble would have been giddy with delight over something like this too. He'd have seen the irony, would have understood why Frenzy felt ten feet tall as he walked back to the med bay, and would have celebrated with him.

As Frenzy rounded the corner to the hall in front of the med bay entrance, he discovered Steeljaw was still curled up in the corridor on his pallet. However, his siblings were gone now. Optimus had moved closer, sitting next to him. Frenzy couldn't keep a smile from his face when Steeljaw lifted his head up. He greeted them with a cheerful, "Hey, Mouser. Hi, Boss."

"Frenzy." Steeljaw's voice was thick with the effect of sedatives and pain killers, but also warm with greeting. Optimus rumbled a greeting as well.

There were witnesses, including Optimus, a few dozen feet down the hall. He couldn't kiss Steeljaw like he wanted to, but he decided to hell with any other suspicions it might raise, and crouched down next to him, between Steeljaw and Optimus. "Where's your sibs?"

"Being repaired … they're always prioritized ahead of me. They're more versatile fighters."

He glanced up at Optimus, who was watching them. Optimus said, very much to Frenzy's surprise, "Someone should really stay with him, Frenzy. Blaster's got his hands full right now."

"I'll do it," he volunteered, immediately.

"Y... you should get some recharge." Steeljaw shook his head. "Heard you got in a fight, and you were working hard before that."

"He could recharge here," Optimus suggested, voice kind, though nearly as thick with medication as Steeljaw's was. "That pallet is big enough for both of you."

He considered the likelhood of being able to recharge in a hall full of Autobots, and wondered if he would be able to relax enough.. Apparently, Steeljaw came to the same conclusion, because he said bluntly, "I don't expect Frenzy's used to being able to trust his buddies enough to nap around 'em, Boss Bot. Frenzy, I-I'll be f-fine … I'm so doped I'm probably gonna drop off here in a minute anyway."

"I'll stay until you're out," he decided, settling down on his aft next to Steeljaw. To the Pit with what anyone thought. He was so close to Optimus that he could feel the exhaust gusting out of his vents. Optimus's systems were running hot as his auto-repair systems worked on his damage.

"It's really not necessary …" Steeljaw protested.

"Afraid to be seen with me?" He challenged, half afraid of the answer.

"No! You just need recharge too, and I don't need … need … need anyone to look out for me."

Optimus pinged him. He looked up. The leader of the Autobots pointed out, :Remember he was on his own for a long time after his first master and bondmates died. He needs people more than he likes to admit.:

:Yeah, I think I understand - he doesn't want to look vulnerable to anyone. Gotcha, Boss.: He rested a hand on Steeljaw's head. Down the hall, one of the minibots - Gears, he thought - fixed him with a suspicious look. He met Gear's optics, quirked up an optic ridge, and then smirked when Gears abruptly looked away.

Steeljaw huffed a sigh, but he reached out and put a battered hand on Frenzy's thigh for a second, then lowered his head down. A moment later, Frenzy heard his systems powering down into recharge.

Nobody was looking at them, now.

He should have gone off to Ratchet's quarters to catch a few hours of much needed recharge. Ratchet and Soundwave were already asleep, according to Prowl, who had warned him not to wake them. However, rather than leaving, he found himself scooting a little closer to Steeljaw and running a hand over his chiseled features. He could feel pits and scratches in the metal that hadn't been there before; shrapnel, he guessed.

Gears was staring again. Optimus was looking, too, but Optimus had a smile on his face.

Reluctantly, he removed his hand from the face of his lover before someone said something. He leaned back against the wall, and turned off his optics. He didn't feel threatened and, suddenly, he was so very tired ... 

* * *

Steeljaw woke to the sound of Ratchet's voice calling his name. He blinked, and started to roll over onto his chest before he remembered that one of the many things that was broken was a clavicle strut. Wheeljack had done a sensor block shortly after the end of the battle, but it had worn off a long time ago, and he hissed with pain.

"Hey, kiddo." Ratchet smiled at him. "Thanks for being so patient with us."

He blinked, then said, "Long line ahead of me, not enough medics …" there was a hand resting on his neck. He thought for a second it was Eject, but when he glanced over, he realized Frenzy was curled up next to him, and still recharging. "Primus, he must have needed to defrag." His internal chronometer told him he'd been dozing for several hours. It was two AM - Ratchet had probably collapsed in exhaustion for a few hours sometime around mid afternoon before rising again. "He's really out cold."

Ratchet, wise to the ways of combat-hardened soldiers, said, "I could get a stick and we can poke him awake from a safe distance."

Despite his pain, Steeljaw rumbled an amused laugh. "Nah, he's not that jumpy." He reached out with his good arm, while still lying on his side, and prodded Frenzy in the thigh. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine."

True to his prediction, Frenzy just lifted his head up. He didn't lash out, though he did tense for a second. "Primus. Didn't mean to recharge for that long."

"You needed it as much as the rest of us." Ratchet shook his head. "The critical patients are all stabilized. The rest is just an endless slog of fragging repairs, and you'll make mistakes and piss me off if you're tired. Still, since you've had your beauty sleep, you want to help me get the surgical suite cleaned up for Lover Boy here?"

Steeljaw sighed. Ratchet was in a fine mood. Lover boy? He had a feeling that Ratchet would be teasing him until the day he died.

Frenzy stood up, gears in his hips whining a bit as he did. He grimaced, which got him a friendly cuff to the head from Ratchet. "Stop yer whining, kid. You're the one who chose to nap in a funny position."

Steeljaw was quite pleased by the smile that Frenzy flashed Ratchet. There was trust there. Frenzy moved out of the way, and then Ratchet carefully picked the entire pallet up that Steeljaw was resting on. He winced despite Ratchet's caution as the motion jostled his injuries. "Sorry, kiddo," Ratchet murmured, in an entirely different tone of voice than he'd just used on Frenzy. "Just a little bit longer, hmm?"

:You okay, Steelie?: Blaster asked, feeling the flare of pain.

:Fine. Ratchet's about to put me under.:

:Love you, buddy. I'll be there when you wake up. Just … we've got to get this comm array back up. It's slagged all to hell.:

:I know, I know. I'm sorry I can't help.: Blaster's affection for him was clear in the feelings that came across the bond. He knew Blaster had a job to do. Still, he felt just a little lonely.

Of course, his first master would have been a gibbering wreck by now. He'd not exactly been the most pragmatic of mechs under the best of circumstances … and had definitely not been a warrior. Overall, he preferred Blaster's approach, which was to keep tabs on him with an open bond, but calmly go about his very necessary work. When he woke up, Blaster and his siblings would be there to greet him. Of that, he had no doubt.

Frenzy trotted into the surgical suite to prepare the room; Ratchet set him down on a gurney. He really did hurt, and it was with some relief that he welcomed the flood of sedatives into his drip. His last awareness was of Ratchet's grin. "Night night, Lover Boy …"

"Frag …" he started to cuss Ratchet out, inhibitions destroyed by the medication. Then oblivion descended, his higher cerebral functions shut down, and he didn't even complete that angry thought. 

* * *

Soundwave woke to the sound of quiet music, distantly audible through the bedroom door. He sat up, and the motion apparently triggered an alarm, because the music silenced and a second later an Autobot stepped through the doorway.

Apparently, Soundwave-sitting had been delegated to Jazz, who still had some obvious and unrepaired injuries of his own. It was the first time Soundwave had ever seen Jazz without his visor, and he looked very different - younger and somehow deceptively innocent. His mandibular joints had been damaged by a hard blow, but he smiled anyway, and said something cheerful.

It was time to test his communication skills, Soundwave decided, even as Jazz unhooked him from the medical monitors. Ratchet had left him a datapad on a berthside table. After Jazz hung a monitor to the inside of his chestplates (and it gave him more than a moment's pause to open up to let Jazz do that) he picked the datapad up. With a stylus, he printed, "Ratchet? Frenzy?" and showed Jazz.

Jazz produced a datapad of his own and wrote on it, "Ratchet, Soundwave" and "Med Bay" and an arrow between them. Then he made a shooing gesture towards the door. Clearly, he wanted Soundwave to proceed to the med bay.

Soundwave inclined his head in a nod. Ratchet could probably use some assistance, and he wished he had had not overslept his new master's rising.

Jazz walked beside him as he found his way to the med bay. He glanced over at the other mech repeatedly, unable to help contrasting Jazz's demeanor with that of any Decepticon. Jazz was cheerful, bouncing as he walked to unheard music, waving at others, striking up quick conversations that Soundwave couldn't follow. There was respect in the way the soldiers responded to him, but no fear, and it was so very clear that they loved him.

He was Starscream's counterpart as Optimus's second in command. How often had Soundwave walked beside Starscream on some errand, and watched the soldiers scurry aside, except for those seekers in Starscream's clique? Far from being happy to see Starscream - or, to be truthful, himself - the soldiers had gone to great pains to get out of their way. He had a hard time imagining the sort of cheerful banter following Starscream across the base.

They trusted Jazz. He'd observed levels of trust among all of the Autobots far beyond anything he could imagine among Decepticons. It seemed to be core to their culture. They liked each other, they relied on each other, and they assumed that no harm would come from their fellow Autobots.

He could take advantage of that assumption, he realized. If he behaved as they did, they would eventually come to trust him. Perhaps they would even like him. It was a heady realization, but he was learning quite a bit about how they functioned as he watched them. Even without words, the body language between mechs - such as just now, when Jazz greeted Bumblebee with an arm around his shoulders - spoke of tremendous amounts of trust. The little yellow minibot buried his face against Jazz's chest armor for a moment, seemingly overcome with emotions. Grief, perhaps, over the dead minibot.

He wouldn't return that trust, of course. He knew the foolishness of that! He had learned a very long time ago that even those closest to him, who should be beyond suspicion, might still betray him. Only the mechs whose sparks were tied to his could truly be trusted …

He thought of Frenzy, who was showing such attraction to Steeljaw. He had thought he could trust Frenzy, but it occurred to him that perhaps he was seeing signs of coming betrayal - warnings that Frenzy might fall in love with another, and might chose Blaster over Soundwave in order to be with Steeljaw.

A wild, desperate wail of loneliness and pain rose in his spark. No. He would not lose Frenzy. He would be competent and strong again. He would be someone that Frenzy would find desirable as a carrier.

To do that, he would need be successful again - competent, with responsibilities and authority, and able to provide for his symbiont - and he calculated that his best odds of that were to become part of the Autobot world. That meant earning their trust, their approval, and perhaps even letting them consider him a friend. It would require a very different approach than he had used to establish his position among the Decepticons.

His inability to communicate was certainly going to make things difficult on some levels, but on the other hand, the coldly pragmatic part of his spark knew it would also earn him sympathy. He didn't want their sympathy, but he certainly wasn't above using it.

They came across Sideswipe, who was carrying an armful of random bits of scrap metal. Jazz said something that sounded amused. Sideswipe retorted with irritation. Jazz teased him. Sideswipe finally cracked a grin, shook his head, and shifted his armload to give Jazz a human style salute before hurrying off.

… This was going to be interesting. He wasn't sure he could ever pull off that level of cameraderie. Maybe he could get away with simply being friendly. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

An Adjustment of Plans

* * *

Author's Notes:

Cliffjumper is Transformers' Kenny, I think.

* * *

It was quite late, more than seventy-two hours after the battle, when Ratchet finished the last repair, left First Aid cleaning up, and shepherded Soundwave back towards his quarters. All that was left was cosmetic body work. That could wait until he'd had some decent recharge, no matter how much of a crisis Tracks thought the deep dents on his door panels were.

Frenzy hurried along beside them, jogging to keep up with their longer strides but not showing any other signs of high energy. The kid actually seemed to be in one of his quiet moods, and Ratchet said, "Thank you for your help, today, kiddo. You're doing good."

"Thanks." Frenzy's response was very quiet.

"Something happen?" Ratchet absently reached a hand out to steady Soundwave as they turned a corner. Soundwave probably didn't need the help - he was getting around quite well with his cane - but he didn't want to fix any more dents than he had to. He told Frenzy, "Not everyone's happy about you being here, but they best be civil. You let me know if anyone's harassing you."

"No problems." Frenzy shook his head, then smirked, "None that I'd tattle on, anyway."

"Frenzy …" He was worried by that. Frenzy, tough little bugger that he was, wouldn't want to admit to weakness. Brief concern for the kid roused him out of his foul mood.

"I'm fine."

"You're not, but I don't think anyone is, today." He tried not to remember the flash of light as a spark in a shattered chamber had extinguished, or the smell of ozone and hot metal. Rationally, he knew it wasn't Frenzy's fault. It was still very hard not to be resentful of both Decepticons - former Decepticons - and his failure today.

Frenzy was alive. Cliffjumper wasn't. Frenzy was alive because he'd used his last extra-small power plant to save Frenzy. Cliffjumper had died because he lacked one in a size he could make work. You could temporarily fit a too-small power plant into a mech's chassis a lot easier than an overly large one. He would never tell the kid that, nor point it out to anyone else, but he was pretty sure that Wheeljack knew. 'Jack had given him a long, long, look when he'd said they didn't have a slagging power plant in anything close to a size that would work, and they'd need to try to fix Cliffjumper's rather than replace it …

Probably would have kacked it anyway … he thought, trying to convince himself of that fact. 'Jumper'd been hit bad, worse even than Soundwave. But, Ratchet thought, he might have had a chance. Maybe. He'd had none without that power plant. Life support only went so far to maintain spark stability.

Frenzy's smile slipped from his face, in reaction to Ratchet's words, and, probably, his mood.. "Yeah."

"Your master's doing very well." Ratchet forced himself to sound normal, even though he really just wanted to get very drunk. Alone, preferably, but he was stuck with Soundwave. At least Soundwave was quiet company. To Frenzy, he said with forced good cheer, "He's doing far better than I'd hoped, really. We're all going to need to work with him to teach him more written English words. Abstract concepts will probably be harder than concrete ideas to convey, but I think he'll do quite well."

"He's confused a lot," Frenzy said. "Sometimes he gets mad, or worried, and I don't even know why."

"I'm not surprised." Ratchet ran a hand over his face. "That will improve with time too, as we help him learn to communicate again. - What's important, though, his code is totally stable, and I can already tell he's going to learn to compensate well."

Soundwave had been calmly helpful, and his eons of engineering experience had been obvious. He'd known what tools Ratchet would need, sometimes before Ratchet did. Once he mastered the written English language, communication with him would be much easier. Any lingering concerns Ratchet had about Soundwave's cognitive abilities were rapidly being dispelled by his behavior. He also suspected, given Prowl's report on Soundwave's confrontation with Hot Rod, that they were unlikely to have many behavioral issues from Soundwave.

Frenzy, on the other hand, was probably going to be trouble. He still wasn't thrilled about the whole mess with Steeljaw, and he was well aware of Frenzy's temper. There would be issues there. He also liked the kid. They'd deal with problems when they arose, and he'd probably have a good laugh about them later, with Jazz and Prime.

Pit. He resolved not to think about Frenzy's power plant. And the lack of one for Cliffjumper. He was going to very thoroughly not think about it tonight.

Frenzy smiled, faintly. "So I made the right choice, I guess?"

"I'd say so." Ratchet had felt guilty, putting that much pressure on Frenzy to decide Soundwave's fate, but it had not been his decision to make. Soundwave's case could have gone so badly, too - he'd strongly suspected that Soundwave's level of damage was right at that threshold where personality and natural resourcefulness and determination would affect the outcome more than anything else. He had not known Soundwave well enough to guess how Soundwave would react to his impairments.

Looking at Soundwave now, it was hard to believe he'd wondered if the mech would be able to function at all. Many mechs with the same level of damage as Soundwave would not be compensating nearly as well, even after lengthy therapy. He had been concerned, too, that Soundwave's damage was worse than it had turned out.

Frenzy hunched his shoulders a bit. "I'm worried. About our future, now. Never had to think about things like that …" his voice trailed off, and he looked up at Ratchet expectantly. "Soundwave always worried about our future. Not me'n my sibs. It wasn't our role. We're not supposed to need to worry about anything. That's the master's role."

Sometimes, Frenzy seemed like just another mech. Then he would say something that reminded Ratchet that he was programmed different, and came from a different culture. Even though Blaster's lot had often assured him that they were happy in their roles, and that genuinely seemed to be true, he still didn't exactly approve of the whole concept of symbionts and carriers. It just felt wrong to him. Freedom, as Prime often said, was the right of all sentient beings.

Well, Frenzy was probably going to have more responsibilities than he was used to, but Ratchet suspected the little mech would do just fine. He said, reassuringly, "I can certainly use the help in the med bay, Frenzy. Both of you are pretty useful, and it's good for Soundwave to have mentally stimulating work. I'm going to put both of you to work on cosmetic repairs tomorrow."

Frenzy switched to an encrypted comm channel to say, ::Thanks … Steelie wanted me to help with his visor modifications, too … I really do like Steeljaw, boss.: Frenzy trailed off for a second. Clearly, it was a request to be allowed to work with Steeljaw, without Frenzy actually saying it.

:It is good to hear you like him, considering you're swapping nanytes with him.:

He really needed to remember that Frenzy wasn't shy. Any other mech with as little experience as the kid had would have been embarrassed. Heck, he knew a few 'well seasoned' mechs he could have made to squirm with a comment like that. Frenzy just flashed him a smirk of appreciation, which slipped off his face after a moment. In a softer tone than he would have expected, Frenzy said, :It was hard, today. I saw … I saw how the other couples were acting. I guess he's got his brothers, but I wanted to be with him too. And then Optimus said it was okay, an' it really was, for me to sit with him for a bit. Nobody said anything. They let me sit there.:

To be fair, Ratchet suspected that most of the Autobots didn't think it precisely unusual for one symbiont to hang out with another. There had been a few comments out of Frenzy's range of hearing, mostly questioning what Steeljaw was thinking socializing with Frenzy. Ratchet had shut them up as necessary. Most of the mechs seemed to take it in stride, though. It helped that Frenzy had busted his aft all morning, and then gone on to be a hero in the afternoon!

:Kiddo, you're not going to have an easy road ahead of you, but it's not going to be impossible, either. A lot of it's up to you. Now - why don't you run on over to Blaster's quarters and check in on that lover of yours?:

:I figured he'd be asleep. He was doped pretty good.:

:You can still ask Blaster if there's anything you can do for them. It'd be polite. Polite is good.:

:Oh.: Frenzy hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Thank me by busting your aft again tomorrow." But he said this with less than his usual snark.

"Yes sir!" And Frenzy was gone, scampering off in the direction of Blaster's quarters.

* * *

Soundwave followed Ratchet into his quarters, well aware of the difference a few days had made in his condition. He was definitely more stable on his feet, to the point where the cane he'd fashioned was only necessary when he hurried. However, after a full day's work he was tired through to the core of his struts, in ways he couldn't ever remember being. It seemed to take ten times as much energy to do anything, and he suspected he badly needed a defrag - though he couldn't check his reports to be sure.

A few days ago, he had been terrified to walk through this door with Ratchet. He had been certain he would be violated, shamed, and used. He now knew that Ratchet was a better mech than almost anyone he'd ever known. He realized, with a bit of startled shock, that he was relieved to be 'home' to Ratchet's quarters. He would be able to rest, and he had no fear of the sturdy medic who walked in behind him.

Ratchet's hand on his elbow still made him jump, however. Ratchet guided him gently in the direction of the private wash rack at the back of his quarters. His least favorite time of the day, he'd rapidly learned, was the maintenance he couldn't perform for himself. At least it was Ratchet, whose hands were cool and clinical and practiced, as he checked fluid levels, topped off oil, and changed a few filters that no longer auto-cleaned themselves. Ratchet had been teaching Frenzy to do this, and that was humiliating for him and embarrassing for the kid. He preferred Ratchet.

After Ratchet finished the night's maintenance, he helped Soundwave shower off. Soundwave endured this with gritted dental plates. He could have showered himself, but Ratchet seemed concerned he'd slip on the slick floor, and was no-nonsense about the whole thing. Given the amount of grease and spilled energon that had gotten under his plating, he did need a good cleaning.

When the whole ordeal was over, Ratchet guided him out to the couch, then returned to his wash rack. Soundwave shuttered his optics and just sat, enjoying the moment of peace. He could feel Frenzy, across a partially muted bond, and Frenzy seemed, if not happy, at least not horribly miserable. His symbiont's emotions, at the moment, were cycling through pangs of grief and flickers of amusement, with the occasional spike of anxiety or annoyance. Over all of that was a pleasant glow of affection, however.

And then he caught a real spike of mischief, the first he'd felt from Frenzy since that horrible day. Frenzy was enjoying himself somewhere.

But the mischief turned again to sadness, and loss. Something had reminded Frenzy of his missing siblings. He wished he could help as he felt Frenzy's sorrow spike higher and higher, in a crescendo of sudden grief. And then, he detected a note of comfort in Frenzy's feelings. He caught flashes of sensation, as another mech wrapped Frenzy up in his arms and held him close. Frenzy responded with gratitude, and trust, and a marked lessening of anxiety. Not a lessening of grief, but acceptance, perhaps, and calm.

Life would go on for him, Soundwave realized. The worst was past. He assumed that the mech holding Frenzy was probably Steeljaw, and by the notes of desire that were creeping into Frenzy's feelings, he was finding another kind of comfort now. He blocked the bond on his end, granting Frenzy a little privacy, and then sat alone on the couch for several minutes before Ratchet emerged.

The medic, still damp from his shower, padded over to his cabinet of supplies and pulled out a bottle of high grade. He held the bottle up, questioningly, in Soundwave's direction. Soundwave didn't normally indulge, but it seemed polite to accept.

Ratchet poured them both generous helpings of high grade, then settled down onto the couch next to him. The sturdy piece of furniture creaked under Ratchet's weight almost as much as Soundwave's, reminder of Ratchet's sheer mass. The medic leaned back, shuttered his optics, spread his legs out in front of himself, and stared moodily into his cube for a moment without sampling it. He swirled the container in his fingers, and said nothing - not that there was anything to say! Soundwave couldn't carry on a conversation if he wanted to.

It was funny. He'd never been good at small talk. He'd never wanted to engage in small talk. Now, he would have given part of his spark to be able to sit back and casually talk to Ratchet. They'd worked side by side as a rather good team for a couple of days. He felt a weird sense of camaraderie that he'd never experienced with other 'cons. And yet he couldn't so much as thank Ratchet for the high grade.

Soundwave clicked back his mask, causing Ratchet to glance over quickly at the noise. He sampled the faintly luminescent liquid. It was decent home brew, he thought; somebody on the Ark had a still. It seemed to leave a warm trail all the way down to his tank, and his sensors kicked up a notch in sensitivity with a pleasurable reaction to the liquid. He drained half the cube, and everything was quickly brighter, warmer, happier. A smile played about his mouth and he relaxed against the cushions with a pleased sigh. He didn't drink often, but he'd needed this.

Distantly, he detected a surprised note from Frenzy, and then the emotional equivalent of a giggle.

Yes, he thought, Soundwave, pleasantly intoxicated.

Something of his satisfaction with this state of affairs must of trickled through despite his attempts to block his symbiont. Frenzy's amusement turned brighter. He'd missed that cheerfulness. It made him happy to sense it.

Ratchet, by contrast, seemed to be moody. It took him a moment to realize that his new master was staring into his high grade, not smiling, and looking dour. He twisted around a bit, surprised by that expression. They'd only lost one mech, as far as Soundwave knew … he would have thought that the medic would be happy to have done such a superb job.

The mech - the little red minibot - who had died had not, as far as Soundwave knew, been a personal friend of Ratchet. Perhaps they shared a bond from being on the same small team of soldiers for so long, but surely, they weren't close. Nothing in his intelligence indicated that the mech was a personal friend.

Was it grief?

Maybe Ratchet just took any loss personally?

Maybe something else was eating him?

Frustrated, Soundwave felt his giddy mood evaporate. He couldn't ask. There was something clearly very wrong, based on Ratchet's expression, and it worried him. He didn't want his master in a foul mood. Ratchet had a deep well of honesty to his spark, and compassion that had left Soundwave stunned. He'd never touched another mind like Ratchet's before … but he also knew damn well that Ratchet had a bad temper and a few demons of his own. He'd seen that.

And … he'd had one master too many turn on him. Not just Megatron, but others in the past. He desperately wanted, needed, to be useful and desired by Ratchet. Earning his place would be tremendously harder if his master was in a bad mood.

He forced himself to think, and to remain calm. There had to be something he could do.

Ratchet sipped at the cube of energon in his hand, staring off into space now. His optics were distant, and his jaw clenched. Soundwave hoped that expression wasn't because of something he'd done. Was Ratchet thinking of, perhaps, casting him out?

He needed a place here. Ratchet was his best bet for a powerful master under whom he could thrive. He thought they could form a beautifully relationship. The ;last few days had been proof that he could be useful. He had been an engineer long before he had been a communications officer. He had found he'd enjoyed the work, the occasional frigid hostility from Autobots notwithstanding. He didn't particularly care what anyone but Ratchet and Ratchet's superiors thought of him, however, so he had not been bothered by their distaste for his presence.

Ratchet swirled the energon around, then sipped it again. As he did, Soundwave realized that the medic's hands - the tools of his trade - had gotten quite battered. He'd been working hard for days, and it showed with misaligned digits and a wire that was actually worn to the point of shorting in his wrist. He could see the occasional little arc of electricity as it grounded out against his ulnar strut. It was the sort of damage that Ratchet's auto-repair would correct eventually, but a skilled engineer could clean up within minutes. He was a bit surprised Ratchet hadn't asked one of the other medics or engineers to fix the issues.

Hesitant, unsure of what Ratchet's response would be, he reached a hand out and touched Ratchet's wrist over the damaged wire. Ratchet tensed, and started to pull away, then looked up and met Soundwave's gaze. Soundwave tapped his wrist with one extended finger, and made a twisting motion - miming a screwdriver - with his hand.

Ratchet nodded, slowly, drained the last of his high grade, and then rose. Soundwave thought he'd declined the offer despite the nod, but Ratchet was just after another cube. He returned with the cube of high grade, then produced a packet of small tools from his subspace and offered both the tools and one hand to Soundwave.

Pleased, Soundwave got to work. He told himself this was nothing different than what he'd done for his symbionts. The amount of high grade that Ratchet was consuming, however, was worrisome. He did not believe Ratchet intended to stop with this cube. His intelligence on Ratchet indicated that the mech had a tendency to go on the occasional binge, and would be in a sourly bad mood the next day. Laserbeak had reported that Ratchet sometimes went so far as to throw things at his staff on the day after a bad night.

He could endure harassment - and the Pit knew he'd learned to duck thrown objects while working for Megatron! - but he feared his position was still precarious. He would do anything to avoid angering the medic, but he was also well aware of the potential for misunderstanding and miscommunication. Would Ratchet be furious with him, if Ratchet wanted him to perform one task and he didn't understand and did something else? What if he made an error in a repair, due to a lack of communication?

Tomorrow might be difficult. Perhaps he could put Ratchet in a better mood now by tending his damage, and the mech would drink less.

Ratchet's fingers were amazing, he realized, after a few moments of study. They had been heavily modified for precision and sensitivity. He had many more sensors than a normal mech, and the tolerances were razor thin. They were precision instruments, not the usual blunt instruments of destruction that most soldiers wielded.

He found them beautiful, strictly from an engineering standpoint. He wished he could ask who had designed Ratchet's modifications. He ran a fascinated finger down Ratchet's palm … and then blinked in surprise when Ratchet made a fist and tried to pull his hand away. Strictly on reflex, he held on tight to Ratchet's wrist and made a disapproving noise. He was trying to work.

And then he realized who he'd just wordlessly scolded.

And looked up.

Ratchet was watching him, optics a bit too bright with intoxication, and no longer scowling. He couldn't read Ratchet's expression at all.

On impulse, he retracted his visor. Ratchet blinked at him in surprise, clearly not expecting that. With naked optics, he met the medic's gaze. He wasn't sure why he'd bared his own optics, except to suspect that the half of a cube of high grade that he'd consumed had something to do with it. He smiled, feeling strange as he did, like he wasn't himself. He never let on to others what he was feeling, and he'd just retracted his visor - which felt like baring his very spark - to Ratchet.

He had started wearing a visor and mask after the death of his bonded, to conceal his pain from the world. There had been those who would use that pain against him, to hurt him further. He had also wished not to be recognized, as the press surrounding her death had put him in such an unjustly bad light. (Did Ratchet even know who he had been, he wondered? He'd covered his tracks well over the years, but Autobot intelligence was at least as good as Decepticon intelligence. He wasn't sure what they knew about his past life.)

Since then, he'd never willingly bared his optics to anyone. It was, he had felt, the kind of gesture one did with a friend. He'd had no friends. He did not need to show his face to his symbionts because they knew his emotions regardless of his expression.

He needed to make a connection with Ratchet. It didn't feel wrong to bare his visor to this master, but his smile was at least partially feigned. He was very nervous, for uncountable reasons.

Well, the work on Ratchet's hand still needed to be completed. He returned to studying the damage. The frayed wire could simply be taped up. The rest was a matter of adjusting tension wires and tightening a few screws that had worked themselves loose.

The medic lifted his other palm up and rested it against Soundwave's face, urging him to look up. He heard a buzz of static, probably a single word, but he couldn't understand what Ratchet had just said. He let his mouth twist into an expression of frustration at being unable to communicate, showing emotion he normally wouldn't, because in that brief and shining moment when he'd seen into Ratchet's spark he had come to trust the mech.

Ratchet sighed, and stroked Soundwave's cheek with one thumb. It seemed like Ratchet was searching his expression for something. A clue, communication, a sign … he didn't know what Ratchet wanted.

The mech was handsome, Soundwave thought, as he returned Ratchet's gaze. He wasn't blind and he noticed such things even when he never acted on them. Megatron's power. Starscream's grace. Optimus's regal bearing. He was not one to be swayed by mere physical appearance, but he noticed, and quietly appreciated, attractiveness in others.

Ratchet was as solid as the granite bedrock, and as strong as a force of nature. His rugged features and sturdy, hefty build didn't hint at the compassion and kindness in his spark, but his optics told that truth. They spoke more clearly of who he was than any words that Soundwave could not understand.

He was a very, very desirable mech.

And his hand was warm against Soundwave's face.

Oh. Sudden realization of what Ratchet might be thinking struck, and he felt a little foolish for not seeing it earlier.

The first time he'd come to Ratchet's quarters, he had been terrified he would be violated. Now, he found himself not displeased by the closeness. Ratchet would be a good lover, Soundwave thought, with an appealing mix of sensitivity and assertiveness. The mech had certainly earned the right, as well … Soundwave owed him his life, Frenzy's life, and he was directly responsible for Soundwave's welfare. Soundwave had been treated very well, with little asked of him other than some honest work.

Ratchet had done everything for Soundwave without a thought for his own needs, but now, he was intoxicated, his inhibitions were down, and Soundwave decided that look in Ratchet's eyes must be one of interest. Ratchet would be, he thought, too honorable to use Soundwave as he must want to under normal circumstances, but with the addition of the high grade, his desires would be stronger and his morals, less.

He knew he himself was attractive. Some found him mysterious. Others just appreciated his height and strength. He'd rarely been propositioned, given his reputation, but he was - had been - a telepath. He was very well aware of how others viewed him.

He'd let Megatron interface with him a few times, willingly enough, though he'd found it rather unsatisfying. Despite his efforts to make it good for Megatron, Megatron had also found the experience less than he'd anticipated. Soundwave's spark had really not been in it, though he hadn't minded precisely. He knew he'd been a technically good lover. It had been annoying when Megatron had complained he lacked passion. If Megatron had wanted passion, Soundwave had thought in irritation, he should have fragged Starscream.

From his standpoint, aside from the fact that he had not been that attracted to Megatron, beyond aesthetic appreciation, he just wasn't much of a valve mech. Megatron, to probably nobody's surprise, was all about his spike. He'd also been large, and rough, and it had been uncomfortable. He had never overloaded himself, something Megatron had taken as a personal insult, and Soundwave had known better than to point out that Megatron was doing it wrong.

He envisioned what it might be like with Ratchet. Ratchet would be kind and most likely skilled. He was an older mech, Soundwave's intelligence suggested he'd had plenty of partners over the years, and one would assume he knew what he was doing.

The truth was, Soundwave found him desirable, on many levels.

Just as much as he found himself desiring Ratchet, he wanted assurance that he would be valued. This would give Ratchet extra incentive to keep him around. If Ratchet was using Soundwave to blow his circuits on a regular basis, the medic would have one more reason - one very potent reason - not to discard him.

Besides, he still wasn't entirely sure why Ratchet was keeping him in his quarters. Maybe he had planned this from the beginning, but being such a compassionate mech, was waiting for Soundwave to make the first move.

He was handsome.

Soundwave … wanted him.

For a moment, he simply envisioned letting Ratchet have his way, as Megatron had. However, that hadn't worked well with Megatron, and he didn't think Ratchet would care much for the perfectly robotic approach either. He doubted Ratchet wanted a drone in his berth. He certainly desired an expereince a little more interesting than that.

A long, long, long time ago, Soundwave had been bonded to a partner … to a mech who had been like half his spark. She would, he thought, be horrified by where he was now in his life, but she was dead and he was alive, and he'd had to make choices to survive that had very often been less than perfect, born of pragmatism rather than idealism.

However, remembered, what it had been like, to have a lover who he'd been passionate with. Few would believe it, and none left alive save Frenzy had known him closely then, but he had been a very different mech those many millenia ago. He was not even sure if the Autobots realized who he was. Mirage might, and perhaps Jazz had the data in his file, but it probably wasn't common knowledge. Did Ratchet know? Had he seen those memories, when he'd put Soundwave's very mind back together? Had he read Soundwave's files? He wasn't sure.

He remembered nights spent in her arms. He had been her sanctuary, calm and solid, a fortress against a vicious, cruel world. He remembered the comfort, the passion, the love and the laughter. He remembered talking quietly until the sun rose over the city … something he would never be able to do again with a lover. He was so frustrated sometimes, with his limitations. He wished he could simply say to Ratchet, Soundwave will interface with you. Please?

It rocked his world when he realized he could envision Ratchet in that role, and shook him even further when that mental image involved him holding Ratchet, not the other way around. He kept seeing Ratchet beneath him, in his imagination, mouth thrown open in ecstasy, optics bright with overload, screaming his name … Ratchet, he was certain, was not a valve mech.

And even if Ratchet screamed his name, he wasn't going to understand it.

Still, he wanted this. Ratchet wouldn't love him (how could you love someone you couldn't talk to?) but he wanted the physical connection.

Before he could decide what action to take next, the medic rose and retrieved himself another cube of high grade. Soundwave found that distressing. The medic was truly a mess tonight, emotionally.

A good interface might be good for Ratchet, really. It would distract the mech and let him take comfort from Soundwave's body. Therefore, right now seemed like a very good opportunity to initiate matters. Ratchet seemed attracted to him and his inhibitions were down.

Soundwave will pretend you are Fairwinds … He thought, as Ratchet settled down next to him again. This time, the medic had just brought the bottle back with him. He offered it to Soundwave, who still had half his original cube left. Ratchet's motions were a little sloppy, as over-stimulated sensors fired erratically. It occurred to Soundwave that if they were attacked right now, the Ark's CMO would be too intoxicated to perform his functions optimally. He'd burn the high grade off rapidly under a high stress situation, Soundwave supposed, but it could still be a problem. He hoped somebody else was on call tonight!

However, he tried not to be disapproving. Ratchet had obviously had a hell of a day. Maybe he'd been closer to that nasty little red minibot than Soundwave thought. Maybe he was just reliving nightmares from his past. Maybe he'd gotten in a fight with a friend. Soundwave couldn't know, because he couldn't ask.

Fairwinds, he thought, I will pretend you are Fairwinds and make love to you tonight.

No. That wasn't right. Making love implied he would be the dominant partner. Ratchet probably would object to that.

I will pretend I am Fairwinds. She will forgive me for this …

He'd loved her so much. His spark suddenly twisted, at what he was contemplating. It was a charade, of course. A pleasurable one, but he didn't love the Autobot, and the Autobot didn't love him. He was … using himself … in ways his long ago partner would have found abhorrent.

It didn't matter.

Survival mattered.

He caught Ratchet's hand again, intending to start things off with touches that would begin clinical and turn … more. He was aware of Ratchet finishing a fourth cube of high grade as he worked to realign the mech's delicate, sensitive, finely engineered finger mechanisms. Ratchet sighed, visibly relaxing, and Soundwave wondered if he'd been in pain or if it was the high grade's influence.

When both hands were done, he tugged gently at Ratchet's fingers and worked his way up one arm. At this stage, it would be easy for Ratchet to assume he was simply being thorough, but when he trailed his fingers down a neural line that was sensitive with deliberate pressure, that had to be unmistakable.

He looked up to meet Ratchet's wide, wide blue optics. Ratchet's mouth was open in surprise. He had obviously not been expecting that touch. Soundwave slid his fingers under Ratchet's armor and stroked the nerve wire on his forearm again, deliberately, gently.

Ratchet remained frozen, optics too bright, expression still startled.

Soundwave, desires you, Soundwave thought, surprising himself with the truth in that statement. He mimicked what Ratchet had done earlier, and pressed his hand to the medic's face, feeling the play of finely wrought mechanisms under pliable metal. Ratchet's cheek was too warm, heated by high grade, and his jaw was tense. Soundwave stroked his cheek arch with one thumb, pretending this was Fairwinds. It had been so long since he'd taken a lover he wanted.

He had often started things off with her like this … a touch here, and a touch there, optics meeting, wordless communion. He would stroke and caress her flier's body, so fine and light - she'd had the body of a finely wrought highborn noble, not the heavy armor of a warrior. Ratchet's frame was a vivid contrast to hers, and for a moment, he hesitated, because all he could see was the partner he'd bonded with and who he had intended to spend the rest of his life with. She was so long dead, though, and he could use those memories …

He would push her back to lay on the berth, his larger frame covering hers. She'd made him feel protective, powerful, strong, and he'd revelled in it.

With a mental shake, he reminded himself that he would need to take the submissive role, as soon as he could get Ratchet to stop staring at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head. Clearly, the medic had not expected him to be willing, or to want to initiate matters. A few days ago, he had been horrified. Not now. Now, he wanted this.

He tried to learn towards Ratchet, intending to offer a kiss … and then turn that kiss into an embrace. Perhaps if he could get Ratchet to kiss him, he could then lie back and pull Ratchet down on top of him. He almost wanted to feel Ratchet's hefty weight on top of him, and he definitely wanted to see Ratchet's pleasure in this act.

Ratchet stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder before their lips connected. The medic's mouth was set into a hard line. Puzzled, Soundwave hesitated. That scowl was directed at him now, when it had just been a generic frown earlier. Perhaps Ratchet was wondering if he was truly willing? Ratchet would not, he suspected, take advantage of this offer if he thought Soundwave wasn't truly interested. The mech's moral code was fierce.

He caught a hand he'd just repaired, and remembered how his long ago lover had once pressed a kiss to his knuckles, early in their relationship. She had been so far above him in social rank that he had scarcely dared to meet her optics, much less make the advances on her that his body craved. She had pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers and then pressed his hand to the silver armor over her spark … and smiled in gentle invitation.

He would do that, he decided. He stroked the medic's gentle fingers for a moment, wishing Ratchet would relax. The medic was rigid, staring at him, neither pulling away nor accepting his advance. Ratchet's optics were a little unfocused, when Soundwave looked up - he'd had four cubes of high grade, which was enough to have flattened a smaller mech, plus several swigs from the bottle he'd tucked between his knees. Perhaps that intoxication would make this easier, if he could just convince Ratchet to relax and accept what he was offering.

He pulled Ratchet's fingers to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. It gave him an odd sense of deja vu, as his memory helpfully supplied how very excited and anxious and wildly aroused he'd been when Fairwind had touched her lips to his fingers that very first time. She'd been hinting at her interest for months, and he had insisted on proper decorum. He was simply her assistant, a university student with an internship, and she was older, a noble, with wealth and power. He had been a carrier from a working-class clan, with a scholarship and three small symbionts.

He had never expected her to reciprocate his feelings, had never expected her to make the first move, had never expected, ever, to bond with her not long after that. She had been his all and his everything, and between them, it had been perfect. He had thought they would last forever. Instead, they'd only had a few short years.

She'd kissed his hand that first time, like he was kissing Ratchet's.

Ratchet still wasn't responding like he'd expected. He had assumed Ratchet would reciprocate immediately. There was no reason for Ratchet to turn him down. It wasn't like Soundwave could - or would - ask for a commitment. This was just about giving pleasure.

Ratchet wasn't responding.

He pressed Ratchet's hand to his jaw, and then turned his face and kissed the inside of Ratchet's wrist. When that got him no further reaction, he pressed Ratchet's hand to his chest, over his spark, and ran a finger up and down Ratchet's wrist. Ratchet's hand was warm. He wanted to feel Ratchet's fingers slide under his armor, tease his wires, stroke his sensors. He wanted to spread his legs, and arch his back into Ratchet's thrusts.

The thought was enough to let cause his fans to click on, and his interface equipment hum to life.

With a movement so swift, unexpected, and violent it made him jump, Ratchet spun away and lunged to his feet. The bottle of high grade smashed into the wall, and it took him a nanoclick to realize that Ratchet had thrown it. The cube followed, in an explosion of crystal shards.

He stared. His fans stalled.

That … had not been the reaction he'd been trying for.

I am a fool, he thought, savagely, embarrassed and humiliated. Then, anger rose. He'd never been so soundly and unexpectedly rejected in his life. Was he so undesirable? So broken?

Until this instant, he had not really realized just how … damaged … he was. The medic didn't want him at all. He had been repulsed by the offer, in fact, or angered by it. Was Soundwave truly that pitiful?

No. Denial rose. He would not be pitied. He wasn't helpless, useless, or pitiable. He started to scramble to his feet after Ratchet, intent on at least making his real anger at the rejection known somehow, when he realized that the medic's shoulders were shaking. Ratchet had his back turned, and at first, he thought that the other mech was laughing.

Laughing.

At Soundwave.

Soundwave's fury was so strong it scared him. He was normally cool, collected, logical. Right at that moment, had he a suitable weapon, he would have killed Ratchet.

And then … a sob. One small, electric hiccup of utter misery.

Ratchet half turned, and saw him standing there. He ground out angry words at Soundwave, and stomped towards the door. Soundwave reached out, grabbed his shoulder, tried to stop him. Both of them were unsteady on their feet, Soundwave with vertigo and Ratchet with drink. Somehow, they went down together in a tangle on the floor.

Ratchet struck at Soundwave's chest, but not hard. He uttered words that Soundwave couldn't hear, but they were full of rage, and grief, and loss. With closed fists he pounded on Soundwave's broad armor, cursing and shoving at him. Soundwave's weight had him pinned down - Soundwave had landed across his legs.

He tried to let Ratchet up, scooting aside, but Ratchet just kept smacking at him. Angry blows, but the anger didn't seem to be aimed at Soundwave. It took him a minute to realize that Ratchet was hitting the Decepticon sigil still emblazoned on his chest, bold and symbolic. Sunstreaker had painted that mark on with the same care he'd given to the rest of Soundwave's paint, a few days earlier. It was gleaming and bright, pristine.

He'd pressed Ratchet's hand over his spark, but in doing so, he realized he'd also pressed Ratchet's hand to the Decepticon sigil. This reaction seemed to go beyond that, though he suspected that the symbolism hadn't helped.

After a bit, Ratchet's rain of light blows let up in frequency. Soundwave sighed, shifted his weight so he was sitting more comfortably, and then, even though he was afraid he would be rejected again, he wrapped his arms around Ratchet's shoulders. He was not a demonstrative mech, and the gesture made him uneasy, but he felt compelled to try to communicate sympathy.

As he had feared, Ratchet didn't seem to take being hugged well at first. Perhaps this was a mistake.

The medic made a protesting noise and went rigid, similar to when Soundwave was trying to seduce him. Soundwave was certainly not trying to get inside his plating now … but he owed Ratchet so much, had so many debts to repay him, and he just didn't know what else to do. Even had he been able to communicate his skills at this sort of interaction were limited. However, he didn't release him. He prayed Ratchet would relax, would accept what Soundwave wanted to offer. A hug was so much less than he was willing to give.

Ratchet didn't cry. He wasn't the sort to bawl his spark out.

However, slowly, cautiously, he relaxed into Soundwave's arms. Soundwave leaned back against the couch, and tugged a little at Ratchet's arms, until Ratchet was comfortably leaning against his chest. The medic lay there, optics focused on Soundwave's sigil. After many minutes of silence, he lifted a hand and traced that purple geometric pattern, over and over and over again.

His rage was gone. Soundwave could feel the anger bleeding out of him as his frame relaxed. After a bit, Ratchet tried to sit up, and resume his dignity.

Soundwave tightened his arms, suddenly feeling fiercely protective. He hadn't seen Ratchet as vulnerable until this moment. Ratchet needed this. Soundwave thought that he needed someone to hold him on nights like tonight, when he was consumed by demons. If Soundwave had not been here, he suspected Ratchet would have probably drank himself into a stupor, alone and miserable.

Where were the medic's friends? Didn't they know he suffered so?

Ratchet relaxed back against his chest, after a moment, traced Soundwave's sigil again and again, sensitive fingers ghosting over the symbol of the enemy.

He had wanted to be Ratchet's servant.

He knew the role of a servant well.

And once, he had been, not a servant, but an equal partner. He had loved her with all his spark. He had bonded with her. He did not think he could ever love like that again … he had always thought Fairwinds would be the first and last partner he ever took. They had been trying for a sparkling when she had died, had planned a future together, had defied all who disapproved.

Therefore, it confused him when his spark stirred with feelings for Ratchet that were not those of a servant for a master. He knew what passionate love was, and he knew what unquestioning loyalty to a master was. What he felt for Ratchet was something different than either.

Idly, he ran a hand down the other mech's back, as he would a symbiont. Ratchet went tense at the contact, and for a moment, Soundwave was afraid the other mech thought he was making a second pass at him. He would not make that mistake again. Clearly, his advances were not wanted in that regard. It hurt, but he could understand, and accept, that Ratchet did not find him desirable.

Then Ratchet sat up, and this time, Soundwave let him, sensing a change in Ratchet's mood. Ratchet gazed at him speculatively for a moment, then sat next to Soundwave on the ground, and produced a datapad from his subspace. He fiddled with it for a moment, and then showed a series of images to Soundwave.

First the face of the fallen minibot, the little red one with the horns. Mechs died in war, and Soundwave had just accepted that the minibot was one more casualty. He'd seen the Autobots showing signs of grieving, but it had not registered on him as significant. A sorrowful loss, but not a devastating loss. Had Ratchet, perhaps, been his friend?

The image that Ratchet showed Soundwave was of the minibot, dead, facial features slack and optics unlit, in the Ark's morgue.

Then Ratchet toggled the image on to show Soundwave a picture of Frenzy … lying in the dirt, smoke coming from his mouth, power plant destroyed, moments from extinguishing forever. They'd come so close to losing him. That reminder made Soundwave clench his jaw, and nearly snap his visor and face mask back into place to hide his emotions. Why was Ratchet reminding him of that terrible day?

Ratchet kept going, on to another image. The Decepticon and Autobot symbols, side by side. They blurred together, swirling into a mass of color … and resolving into a caduceus. He understood that symbol, even if it wasn't Cybertronian. It was the sign of a medic. After that display, Ratchet made the datapad disappear again. He reached up and ran a hand along Soundwave's jaw, then up the side of his face.

The touch left warm tingles behind as Soundwave's sensors fired in reaction to the touch of a mech he was coming to realize he was quite attracted to. However, this wasn't the caress of a lover. Ratchet's fingers found the line of an almost imperceptible weld, the only external sign that was left of the savage injury he'd suffered. He traced that repair, fingers slow and steady and deliberate.

Soundwave turned his head and pressed a kiss to the inside of Ratchet's wrist, knowing he was risking another rejection, but unable to stop himself. He desperately wanted … something. His spark felt strange, his emotions wild.

Ratchet leaned in and pressed his lips to Soundwave's mouth. His ventilations smelled strongly of high grade, and his optics were dimmed. Soundwave gasped, surprised, then returned the kiss. Instinctively, he leaned towards Ratchet, hand coming to rest on the shorter mech's shoulder, weight bearing Ratchet towards the ground.

Ratchet let himself be pushed down, tugging Soundwave along. Soundwave belatedly realized that he was taking a dominant role and tried to back off a bit. He needed to submit, to let Ratchet take his pleasure …

Ratchet shifted underneath him when, pushing up on Soundwave's chest. Soundwave rose up on his hands and Ratchet promptly slid one leg underneath Soundwave's hip and raise both knees. Much to his shock, Soundwave found himself on top, his still-closed (but rapidly heating) interface panel resting against Ratchet's valve cover.

Oh.

Suddenly, he didn't need to pretend that this was Fairwinds, or that he was Fairwinds. With delliberate intention, he raked his fingers down Ratchet's chest plates. The medic cried out, arching his back and simultaneously clutching at Soundwave's arms.

He never would have done this with Megatron, or with any other mech he had been subservient to. He was stunned at his own actions, even as was aggressively pinning Ratchet down, closing his mouth on Ratchet's neck cables, fingers digging into the sensitive wires above Ratchet's hip. Ratchet groaned, taking it, not fighting, seeming to welcome Soundwave's assertiveness.

Mine, he couldn't help but think, as he found a cluster of sensors with his mouth, right at the edge of Ratchet's jaw, that made Ratchet shudder when he kissed them. Mine.

No. Not his. Ratchet was his boss, not the other way around, but if Ratchet wanted this to be his role, he would assume it … and for a moment, he could pretend too. He knew this wasn't about love. It was about forgetting, and about defying the awful reality that they both found themselves in.

Ratchet clutched at his shoulders. The medic's valve cover clicked open, and seconds later, Soundwave's spike extended. He lined himself up and pushed into that tight, slick entrance. Ratchet shivered beneath him, head thrown back, thighs clenched around his hips.

It felt amazing.

Ratchet's optics were shuttered, and his ventilations came in rapid, desperate gasps. He clung to Soundwave, sobbing small noises of arousal with each powerful thrust of Soundwave's spike.

Soundwave would have liked to have taken more time, but Ratchet came quickly, with a shout, valve clenching tight, heels scrabbling at the floor, hands balling into fists behind Soundwave's head. Soundwave tried to slow down, hoping to wring another climax out of the medic before his own pleasure struck, but Ratchet made a moaning sound that set his circuits afire, and suddenly he was losing himself in a rush of sensation, an electrical storm of release …

When he came back to himself, Ratchet was pushing at his shoulder. He rolled off the medic, and stroked his hand down Ratchet's chest plates. He wanted to tell Ratchet how attractive he was, how pleased Soundwave was … but all he could do was touch, and smile.

The medic curled up against him on the floor, one hand resting on Soundwave's Decepticon symbol, and nearly motionless except for the whir of his fans. After a moment, Ratchet's systems began to power down as he slipped into recharge.

Soundwave held him, admiring the strong lines of the medic's jaw, and the power in that sturdy frame.

He would do whatever it took to keep the medic, he thought, no matter how difficult.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

An Adjustment of Plans

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Author's notes: Due to health issues, I have not been able to write as fast as I would like. Please do not send me nasty comments demanding the next chapter. It's not helpful, it won't speed up the writing process, and it just frustrates me further. I'd like to be able to write two chapters a week like I used to, but that's not going to happen in the near future.

* * *

There was a reason why Ratchet got overcharged in private, without an audience. Long experience - both with drink and with friends - had taught him that he had a remarkable ability to frag things up when he was intoxicated. Most of the time, 'fragging things up' involved a roaring fight with Wheeljack or Ironhide.

Soundwave slept.

Ratchet sat on his couch with his optics resolutely turned off, sipped at a cube of energon, and tried not to think about anything. Thinking was only going to make things worse. Anyway, his mind felt slow, and his memories of the night before were low resolution. He remembered more than enough, however. As frag-ups while drunk went, this ranked way up near the top.

He'd been an idiot. A complete glitch. He'd violated some ethics he held truly dear to his spark, and probably caused emotional harm to a patient in the process. How to explain to a mech that he couldn't even _talk _to that he'd been an idiot, and it never should have happened? Without making Soundwave feel bad? When Soundwave very clearly _wanted _it?

This wasn't Soundwave's fault.

Well, okay, maybe a little. Soundwave had initiated matters.

However, Ratchet knew he should have done better. He never should have put himself in a position where this could have happened, and never with a mech that he couldn't see a future with. He didn't exactly believe in true love happening for cranky old medics, but he wasn't a big fan of casual interfacing, either. The latter always left him longing and lonely, dreaming of the sort of relationship that past experience had proven he was very bad at maintaining. Love wasn't for him, but it didn't mean he couldn't wish for the fairy tale romance that in reality he was just too damn old for.

The door slid open, admitting Frenzy. The little mech was still damp from a trip to the wash racks, had a towel slung over one shoulder, and had acquired a few new scuffs on his chassis. He gave Ratchet a long, silent look, then without a word, headed for the pallet he'd made for himself in a corner. He had a box full of toiletries - rags, wax, chamois - next to the pallet and his optics were firmly focused on the box.

_:Kid.:_

_:Don't talk to me.: _Frenzy wouldn't look at him.

_:This about last night?: _Of course it was about last night. The kid was furious, and with good reason, and Ratchet knew he owed him - both of them - a profound apology. His guilt over last night was eating at him like acid in his gears. Unfortunately, apologies were not a skill he'd practiced much, and he had no real idea what to say.

Frenzy would know, of course, that Soundwave had spun his cogs. Bonded teams could block a fair amount from each other when they chose, but doing so took conscious effort, and he'd yet to meet bond mates who could keep up that sort of focus while in the throes of passion.

_:You're a glitch and a half,: _Frenzy snapped.

_:Fair assessment.: _It took most of his formidable willpower not to react with anger to that comment.

Frenzy stopped short on his way across the room. Surprised red optics gleamed at him. _:You agree?:_

_:Yeah. I'm a glitch.:_

_:You do realize he doesn't love you.:_

_:Do you love Steeljaw?: _He was needled to strike back in kind, pushed past the point of tolerance.

To his surprise, Frenzy hesitated before answering, _:That's not relevant, Autobot. He's letting you frag him because he thinks he __**has **__to.:_

_:He started it!: _Ratchet hadn't even considered _that _possibility, given Soundwave's assertiveness. He'd assumed that Soundwave was just horny, lonely, and desperate for any sort of communication, even if it was simply the language of physical intimacy. Now that Frenzy brought it up, however, his misgivings grew exponentially.

That he was the fragee, not the fragger, was probably too much information to share with the kid. Ratchet honestly didn't care if he pitched or caught; it all led to good feelings. He'd let Soundwave take the lead so that he could be certain that Soundwave completely consented and _wanted. _He hadn't considered that the mech might be acting out of a sense of obligation, or a desire to earn Ratchet's favor.

_:Yeah? So? He's buying his place with his body. It's all he's got left. He doesn't know about the deal I have with Prime. And frag, I can't believe you're even attracted to him.: _Frenzy's mouth twisted into an expression of disgust. _:He's crippled. I _don't _get the appeal,. and I'm bonded to him!:_

_:He doesn't need to … you don't think that was about ..: _He protested, even as his mind raced ahead. Soundwave had a hell of a lot left beyond his _body_.

However, his guilt was rapidly replaced with anger when the rest of what Soundwave's symbiont had said registered. _Frenzy _didn't get the appeal? Soundwave had been injured, yes, but that didn't mean he didn't have desires of his own - and it didn't mean he couldn't _be_ desirable. He was definitely attractive, and Ratchet had seen enough of Soundwave to suspect there was a very active mind with a very dry sense of humor locked in terrible silence.

Frenzy, however, was not letting up. Furious, he spat over an encrypted comm frequency, _:You used him like a whore, Ratchet. He's got to be thinking he needs to buy his place here. It's how it would work if we were still 'cons and somebody was as crippled up as he is!:_

Ratchet recoiled, physically and mentally. Frenzy had it all wrong! Last night had been about comfort, and connection, and affirmation of Ratchet's spark deep belief that the Decepticons could become friends, allies, and partners with Autobots. Nobody was beyond redemption. _Nobody_. Ratchet didn't preach the way Optimus did, but he _believed _this, to the very core of his being.

Ratchet bellowed, "That's not what that was about! I wasn't _using _him, you little glitch, and he's got a home here. Last night _never _should have happened, particularly if he doesn't understand that I _actually find him attractive_ and last night was about a good frag, not about, about, _using _him. Primus, I thought he wanted it!"

His words, spoken aloud at considerable volume, and very irate, jolted Soundwave out of recharge. Soundwave, survivor of eons of war, rolled over and started to scrambled to his feet before all his systems were online. Someone had started shouting, and that was warning enough for Soundwave to come up fighting. Frenzy's mood probably didn't help.

_:I thought you were different.: _Frenzy sounded bitter, now, as he moved out of Soundwave's way.

_:Didn't he want it at all?: _Ratchet asked, horrified static buzzing in his words. _:I thought he wanted … Frenzy, he started it!:_

He almost cut himself off at this point, but he reminded himself that Frenzy was no child, and Frenzy knew Soundwave better than anyone, and he needed to know. Frenzy was glaring at him, optics glittering and angry. He repeated, _:Did he _want _it? Or was it pure … obligation?:_

Frenzy continued to glare.

_:Frenzy, please. I have to know.: _He'd never been more horrified of his own actions in his life.

Meanwhile, Soundwave made it halfway into a sitting position and then looked from Frenzy, to Ratchet, and back. He stopped struggling to get up in a panic, and rose in a more dignified fashion, only to sit down on the couch next to Ratchet. Ratchet stiffened, not looking at him, unsure if he wanted to bolt across the room or turn to Soundwave and try to figure out how to apologize, to make this right.

Frenzy didn't answer his question but he said, finally, _:I truly don't get the appeal. How can you expect me to believe you want a mech you can't _talk _to, who's crippled?:_

_:You're bonded to him!: _This argument was spinning out of control, and Ratchet found he was suddenly, ferociously, defensive. _:You can't find him, what, repugnant? Or is it that you think I'm _lowering _myself by clanking with your master?:_

Frenzy fell silent again, optics glittering. This Frenzy was not the wild, crazy, berzerker that Ratchet had seen in battle countless times. Frenzy's words were fueled by a very different sort of anger - hard, cold, bitter. Ratchet found he was taken aback by that anger. It seemed out of proportion to the incident; Soundwave was an adult, had been a willing participant, and had _started _things.

_:I was intoxicated, Frenzy,: _Ratchet said, after taking a moment to get mastery of his mood. He refused to let a half-pint youngling needle him into a blind rage. He added defensively, though that wasn't much of an excuse either, _:And I repeat, your _master _started it.:_

_:Riiight.: _Frenzy drew the word out slowly, sarcastic and skeptical.

Soundwave's optics, still bared, had narrowed at Frenzy. He spat a wordless blat of static that made Frenzy jump. Clearly, it was chastisement of some sort. Frenzy glared back at his master for a second.

"You jealous, kid?" Ratchet demanded. "I'm sharing something with him you aren't part of? Maybe that makes you feel a little less like a special snowflake?"

"No!"

Soundwave lunged, reaching out with one long arm and grabbing Franzy by the wrist. He yanked his symbiont to him, snarled something completely nonverbal but entirely comprehensible, and then shoved Frenzy towards the door.

"Okay, already! Geeze, you're a big boy. Don't get your struts in a knot!" Frenzy snapped at his master, then stormed out. He was so angry that Ratchet could hear the growl of his revved-up internals even after the door slid shut.

Soundwave was fiercely scowling when Ratchet looked back at him. His jaw was set with real anger, fists balled. By Soundwave's expression, Ratchet suspected that Frenzy had been leaking a few unpleasant emotions.

"You'd think I tried to feed him a poison apple," Ratchet grumbled, rising. "Soundwave, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened, last night. Now I've fouled things up between you and Frenzy, too."

The apology didn't make him feel any better. It was, however, easier to utter it since he knew that Soundwave couldn't comprehend it.

Was Frenzy right? Had Soundwave felt _obligated_?

_Was _it disgusting, what he had done with Soundwave? Frenzy had acted appalled, but Ratchet wondered at his real motives. He had no desire to come between Soundwave and Frenzy - he had no desire for a relationship with Soundwave at all, damnit! - but Frenzy didn't know that. Frenzy was isolated enough as it was, with only Soundwave and his damaged ability to communicate remaining of what had once been a rich and deeply supportive relationship with his bondmates. He _would _feel threatened by Ratchet moving in on Soundwave …

… and he could certainly see how a reasonable mech could find what he'd done with Soundwave to be questionable, at best. There were real issues of motivation and perception to worry about when it came to Soundwave, if not outright consent. It was hard to argue that Soundwave hadn't been willing! However, Ratchet truly didn't know what was going on in that head - and he couldn't _ask_.

Plus he'd been a 'con and now he was, officially, a prisoner. That was a whole different minefield of perceptions to navigate.

Maybe the kid was right. Maybe what he'd done had been downright perverse, as well as ethically questionable. Should he _really _be attracted to a mech with less ability to communicate than the average cleaning drone?

Mind in a whirl, he headed for his cabinet. Soundwave needed fueling, and he needed a second to collect himself.

Soundwave struggled to his feet, and trailed after Ratchet. He poured a cube of energon, intending to offer it to Soundwave.

Strong arms slid around his chassis. Soundwave pulled him back against his chest with a low growl of his internals, a gust of hot air venting across Ratchet's back. Ratchet hastily set the cube of energon down even as he protested, "Hey! Knock it off, now!"

Soundwave just held him, arms firm, body hot and hard against his. After a second, Soundwave's fans kicked on with a low thrum.

_Primus_. Soundwave was taller than he was, more powerful, and _warm_. It had been a long, long time since anyone had held him like that. He found he didn't want to reject Soundwave's advance. He didn't want to hurt Soundwave's feelings. Moreover, he wanted to indulge himself, just for a moment, in the sheer physical comfort that Soundwave was offering.

Soundwave traced a strong hand down Ratchet's chest, fingertips skimming over his armor. That touch left an electric trail of heat behind it, and when Soundwave gave a sharp rev of his internal motor, Ratchet couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. Soundwave didn't have a very big power plant for his size, but his pelvic plating was pressed hard to the small of Ratchet's back and the vibration sent an electric wave of arousal through every nerve wire he possessed.

_Primus_. He had never expected Soundwave to be _experienced._

"Enough," he said, softly, hoping his tone would convey the meaning of his words. "Enough, Soundwave."

Soundwave didn't try to restrain him when he turned around, but as soon as Ratchet was facing him, the mech attempted to kiss him. He put a hand firmly on Soundwave's chest, stopping him. "Enough."

Soundwave stopped and looked at him with optics that were shaded dark with worry. His mouth set into a frown. Abruptly, he averted his gaze. Ratchet expected him to snap his face plate and visor into place, but he didn't.

"Right. Sense of obligation, my aft." It was clear that Soundwave wanted to go another round, and he was hurt by Ratchet's rejection. That tended to happen, he supposed, when you fragged a lonely mech, then turned around and rejected them come a sober morning. In his case, it was complicated by communications issues. Ratchet couldn't _explain _why he felt that this was a very bad idea to Soundwave.

Soundwave stood, swaying a little, gyros and pistons whining and clicking and humming as his damaged systems struggled for balance. Then Soundwave reached out and cradled a hand against Ratchet's helm. Ratchet let him, not wanting to be rude - which was an unusual consideration, for him, but then he wasn't usually in the wrong. He didn't mind calling it like it was when someone _else _screwed up, but this was his own huge frag up.

That hand felt so very, very good, and if he shoved him away, he had no way of explaining it was nothing personal. He didn't want that touch to end, either. His spark felt tight in his chest, his fans were running just a little hot, and his processor was surging with improbable, impossible ideas. Panic warred with hope as he realized he liked those touchs, and he didn't need words to understand what Soundwave was offering.

Soundwave steadied himself on Ratchet's shoulders, grip firm, stance unsteady, and then tried again to kiss Ratchet. Ratchet gave in, unable to resist, and irritated by the very idea of saying 'no'. Soundwave demonstrated that he _definitely _knew what he was doing with a kiss that threatened to shatter Ratchet's already troubled spark with the terrible sweetness of it.

He never would have imagined that Soundwave could be so gentle, so tender. Soundwave had always been Megatron's taciturn and looming shadow - not this silent mech with gentle hands and a calm smile. Ratchet realized in a moment of shattering epiphany that he'd never had a _tender _lover in his life. He'd had lovers, sure, but never ones that would hold him like Soundwave was holding him.

Of course, he was too damn old to be snuggling like a youngling with a first crush.

He hardened his resolve at last, and firmly pushed Soundwave back. Soundwave wobbled, took another step back in an effort to balance, and reached out for Ratchet's shoulder - this time in an attempt to avoid falling. Ratchet caught his elbow even as Soundwave held onto him, and steadied him with reflexive speed.

Soundwave nodded gravely when he was steady, and then abruptly dropped downwards.. At first, Ratchet thought he had fallen, legs buckling or balance lost, but Soundwave landed with a heavy clunk on one knee. He wobbled, steading himself with a warm hand on Ratchet's hip, then bowed his head and held that position of supplication.

Ratchet stared at him with growing dismay that verged on horror. "No!" he hissed.

Something in his voice tone made Soundwave look up sharply. The tall mech's eyes widened as Ratchet shook his head in denial and negation. He didn't want _submission_. Hastily, he reached down, slipped his hands under Soundwave's elbows, and urged the mech to stand with a firm tug. He steadied Soundwave as he rose back to his feet, then repeated, "_No_."

Surely he hadn't misunderstood Soundwave's touches earlier. Frenzy could not have been right. He didn't like what Soundwave's actions implied at all. He liked his lovers to meet him square on, head to head, thank you very much!

Soundwave frowned, clear uncertainty in his expression.

"I've fought most of my life for the ideal of _all are one_," Ratchet growled, "and I'm not about to take a berth slave now."

He wondered, even if Soundwave could comprehend his words, if the mech would _understand _them. Ratchet believed in his ideals to the very core of his being. The thought of anyone kneeling to him, much less a lover, was repulsive.

_Lover_.

Frag, he'd really screwed up.

Soundwave glanced down, where he had been kneeling, then turned his keen gaze to Ratchet's face. Sharp red optics studied him, expression inscrutable, for a long moment. Ratchet found he was transfixed by that gaze. Something electric connected the two of them, something he could barely define but also couldn't deny.

The big mech moved, one step forward. Ratchet stood his ground, but made a small and muffled noise of disbelief when Soundwave pulled him into a simple hug. There was no passion, no attempt to seduce, in this gesture.

Then the taller mech pressed a kiss to Ratchet's helm and stepped back. The former Decepticon produced a datapad from his subspace and quickly pulled up two images - one of Soundwave, one of Ratchet. Between the two, he wrote the mathematical symbol for 'equal' and after the two images, a question mark.

Ratchet took the stylus from his fingers and printed, "Yes."

This earned him a long, measuring look from Soundwave. Then Soundwave claimed the stylus back pulled up images of the Autobot symbol, the Decepticon symbol, drew another equal sign between them, and added the word _yes _himself. His jaw was set, now, and he evaded Ratchet's attempt to take both datapad and stylus from his hand by subspacing it.

Relief flooded Ratchet's spark. Soundwave _got _it, and seemed happy with the idea. Well, the horror on his face when Soundwave had tried to kneel to him had probably communicated everything Soundwave needed to know.

Soundwave studied him momentarily, then he nodded once, almost imperceptibly. He pressed his hand to Ratchet's face, fingers warm and nimble against Ratchet's jaw. His thumb brushed over Ratchet's lip plates. Then he leaned in to kiss Ratchet, and Ratchet couldn't summon the resolve to push him away. Soundwave lingered over the kiss, and Ratchet … hadn't been kissed like that in a very long time. Maybe never, really. It was not passionate so much as intimate, and there was desire but not desperation in it.

When they finally parted, his fans were humming with arousal. He would not have thought he would find Soundwave's touch so seductive now that he was sober, but he was seriously contemplating a late start to his shift. His interface equipment surged with heat and power.

Soundwave smirked at him.

It was that expression, knowing and amused, that did it. Ratchet felt something in his spark surrender. It was simultaneously an awful feeling, like defeat, and giddyingly novel and exciting. It had been a long, long, time since he'd let himself act on interest in another mech.

With a mix of resignation and irritation, he realized he _really _needed to have a chat with Optimus.

Optimus's door loomed like the entrance to a forbidden tomb in a cheesy Earth adventure flick. Ratchet hesitated, feeling horrendous dread, and guilt, and misery, and a growing sense of anger - at Soundwave, for pushing; at himself, for not being stronger. Some things were best left alone. Now that he was out of the presence of the taller mech, he felt much worse about the whole matter.

It just felt so slagging unfair.

Well, there was no sense dawdling outside the Optimus's office like some ninny of a youngling. Ratchet summoned his resolve, and pinged the Prime through the door..

_:Ratchet, I was just about to summon you.: _Optimus sounded decidedly unreadable. Usually, he was warm and welcoming; a friend, as well as a boss.

Ratchet squared his shoulders, stiffened his back strut, pulled himself up to his full sixteen feet of height, and marched into the office as soon as the door slid open. "Optimus, I need to talk …"

He spotted the small mech sitting in a miserable hunched ball on Optimus's desk.

"... to you." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Frenzy.

Optimus fixed him with a keen gaze. Ratchet froze, then said hastily over an encrypted comm channel to his commander, friend, and Prime, _:Whatever the kid told you, he's got a bit of a skewed perspective.:_

Silence, from Optimus, except for an audible sigh.

Frenzy, however, snarled, "You told me that if anyone touched my master, to tell someone - you, or Prime, or Prowl, you said. Well, I took your slagging advice!"

"Frenzy." Optimus put a gentle hand on his back. Frenzy subsided. He simply looked at Ratchet, however, expression still utterly emotionless.

Ratchet grabbed a chair roughly, pulled it back away from Optimus's desk, and flung himself into it. He glared right back at Frenzy, but didn't say a word to him. To Optimus, he snapped, _:It was consensual. Soundwave started it. I was a complete and utter fool for not stopping him cold, but believe me, Soundwave was an active and eager participant.:_

_:I believe you.: _Optimus said finally, to his utter relief. _:Frenzy seems to think that Soundwave is trying to … pay … for his place here. I highly doubt that you would have taken advantage of his offer if you had been aware of that.: _

_:Pit.: _He remembered warm arms around him, only a few minutes before, and a teasing smirk that had told him Soundwave was well aware of the desire that had been thrumming through his system. _:And I didn't think there was any 'taking advantage.:_

_:Mm. The rules regarding … physical relations … with prisoners are there for a _reason, _Ratchet.: _There was only very mild disapproval in Optimus's voice. That didn't stop Ratchet from wincing. It was rare that Optimus had to reprimand him at all; they had a relationship built on a foundation of deep trust and respect.

_:Slag me. I know, I know.: _He fought to avoid squirming like a youngling under Optimus's now-frowning gaze. He huffed a sigh aloud and, forced himself to offer an apology to Frenzy, "Kiddo, I'm sorry. I was stupid, and I was drunk, and I thought your master really wanted … comfort, I guess. Thought he wanted me. He's a better actor than I ever would have guessed."

In more of an explanation to Optimus than Frenzy, Ratchet added in a small voice, "It … would be nice to be wanted. That way."

Optimus sighed, deeply this time, sounding sad. "I'm certain Soundwave is very confused right now, and I am unsurprised that he is seeking … reassurance … in a variety of ways. I doubt there is any lasting harm done, Ratchet …"

Frenzy made an angry noise. Optimus's hand on his back moved in a soothing circle. He continued, "Ratchet, you have violated several important regulations."

"Yeah." He slumped in the chair. "I guess … pit. I just wanted to pretend, for a bit, Prime. And I was stupid, and I was weak, and I hurt my patient - emotionally, if not physically - and I disappointed you. Kid, Frenzy, I'm sorry."

Frenzy scowled.

"You did the right thing by going to Prime, by the way. I won't hold that against you."

Frenzy's scowl lessened a bit. He stared at Ratchet, jaw set, optics glinting with a hard light, but not quite as furious as he had been before.

"Optimus - I'll take whatever punishment you think is fitting. I'd offer to be transferred to another base …"

"We need you too much." Optimus objected, immediately. Ratchet knew this was true; he was one of the last fully trained and experienced medics. He couldn't think of any medic that they could send Soundwave to, either, who he would trust to be compassionate, or at least politically neutral, towards a former 'con.

Frenzy glanced back over his shoulder at Optimus, then returned his scrutiny to Ratchet. He was frowning, but it was a different sort of expression than earlier. He appeared to be thinking hard.

Optimus ran a hand over his face. "I'll put an official reprimand in your file, I suppose."

"That's a slap on the wrist," Ratchet objected, truly distressed. He _had _erred. He didn't want special treatment because of either his rank or his relationship to Optimus.

Optimus blew out a third sigh through his vents and ran a hand over his face. Ratchet knew what he was thinking - that he didn't want to do anything that would harm the deep respect that the crew had for Ratchet, or diminish his very necessary authority. Ratchet, however, felt punishment _was _deserved. He'd screwed up. He'd let his loneliness suck him into a bad decision. Frenzy needed to know that _every _Autobot was accountable for his actions, if nothing else - he had high hopes for the little mech. Both Frenzy's temper, and his bitterness now, he realized, were signs of a spark with a keen sense of justice.

"Confine me to quarters," he suggested, finally. "On my off duty hours. And - it's about time that Soundwave get his own quarters, at least."

Optimus sighed. "Is he stable?"

Worry struck at Ratchet's spark. He _wasn't _sure if Soundwave was fully stable yet. His auto-repair was still at work on damaged circuits, and another glitch could be created at any time. He averted his gaze from Optimus's blue optics, and inadvertently met the flat red glare of Frenzy's stare instead. To Optimus, he said, _:I don't know. I don't want to leave him alone at night, but … it puts me in a compromising position.:_

Frenzy pressed his lip plates into a narrow line for a moment and then he said, sounding more than a little angry, "You know, Megatron _used _Soundwave. Soundwave hated it, but he let him. He had to. He had no choice. There was no pleasure in it for him."

"I doubt that's what happened last night, even in Soundwave's perceptions," Optimus said, quietly.

"He enjoyed himself." Frenzy sounded angered by this. "It would have been easier if he didn't. I'm sure he was doing it to try to get Ratchet's affections, but he had such a good time he woke me up, if you know what I mean. And he was _happy_. Which makes it _worse_, because he's not a drone, and you're just _using _him."

Optimus sounded a bit surprised when he admitted, "I thought your anger was from jealousy, Frenzy. I believe I misjudged you."

Frenzy snorted. "I'm _not _worried about Soundwave not loving me or not having time for me. He's hurt and he's lonely and I don't want to see him lose anything else. He's lost enough, slaggit."

_:Ratchet …: _Optimus met his gaze. _:Are you interested in him … at all?:_

_:No!: _The denial was instinctive. He wanted it to be true.

Optimus was smiling at him, and he found he was annoyed by that fond expression. Not only had he disappointed Optimus, he had the most terrible guilty feeling, as if he'd just lied to the Prime. Worse, Optimus seemed to know it.

_:You just said it would be nice to be wanted.: _

_:He's a former 'con. Can you imagine what people will think?:_

_:When have you ever cared what people think?: _Optimus countered, and he was still teasing, slag him.

_:I care when it potentially impacts my ability to do my job. They'd accuse me of treason.:_

_:You underestimate the depth of trust that the troops have in you.: _Optimus seemed amused. _:And in me.:_

_:Slaggit!: _

_:He's a very intelligent mech,: _Optimus observed, _: He is patient to a fault, loyal past all reason, and you like the quiet, dignified ones.: _

_:Optimus, no!: _He was suddenly alarmed by the light gleaming in Optimus's optics. Prime wasn't above being a scheming matchmaker, and he had been suggesting that Ratchet needed to find himself a lover for _eons_.

_:I find I am torn. This would be a violation of many rules … but my instincts tell me that this long and terrible war is nearly at an end. Now will come a time of healing between our factions. Soundwave is a potent symbol - as are you, Ratchet.: _Optimus sighed aloud. _:For the others to see that you can forgive, and that Soundwave has a spark worthy of your love, would be …:_

_:I don't love him!: _He denied, with an angry growl of his engine. He folded his arms and glared. Frenzy, between them, had gone quite still. He looked frightened, perhaps sensing Ratchet's hostility and not knowing who it was aimed at.

Optimus said aloud, "Frenzy, would you object to Ratchet … having _honest _interest in your master?"

Frenzy scowled. "Why would he? Soundwave's fragged up. I hate t' say it, but he's not exactly partner material."

"He's not that bad!" Ratchet objected, instantly, defensively, and more than a bit angrily. "His mind is intact! Primus, Frenzy!"

Frenzy started to say something back to Ratchet, stopped, then twisted around to look up at Optimus. He said softly, "Prime, if … if he was _honest _in his interest, yeah, it'd be okay. But he's not. He can't be. He's just taking advantage."

"Are you sure of that?" Optimus rumbled at Frenzy, voice holding just a hint of warning. Frenzy's accusations bordered on slanderous.

Ratchet started to deny his interest again, then realized that would imply he'd just taken an easy frag with Soundwave last night, and would confirm Frenzy's words, and his vocalizer seemed to freeze up. He was confused, angry, resentful, and yet somehow, there was also a thread of _warmth _in his spark. Optimus cared about him, Optimus cared about _all _of them, and Optimus was trying to make this right. He wasn't being condemned or ridiculed - it was clear that Optimus's biggest concern was his, was _their_, welfare.

Frenzy twisted around to look at Optimus straight on. Optimus's momentary irritation faded. He stroked Frenzy's arm comfortingly and said in a soothing tone, "Do you really think so little of my medic?"

The little symbiont glanced down at his hands. "... No. I … if he was honest about it, if he was really interested, it'd be okay."

Ratchet remembered that teasing _smirk_, and the feel of warm hands on his plating. He remembered, too, the sense he'd gotten of Soundwave when he'd linked with him to rebuild his mind, and the further impression he'd developed of Soundwave's over the last several days. Between the mech's grim, quiet determination to _function _and his deep, unwavering love for Frenzy, he was intrigued.

"_Slaggit_." Ratchet growled the obscenity out with an accompanying huff of vented exhaust.

"That, Frenzy," Optimus said, sounding deeply amused now, "is Ratchet's way of saying he's seriously interested, without actually admitting to it. He can't, of course, come right out and say so."

"Thanks for the translation." Frenzy turned his attention back to Ratchet. Head tilted to one side, he said, "You know we're a package deal. You hook up with Soundwave, you get to put up with _me _for the rest of our lives. You sure you're up for that?"

"I'm not _hooking up _with …"

Frenzy narrowed his optics.

Ratchet held both hands up defensively. "Fine. I like him. Like _that_. Does that make both of you happy?" And, to Prime, _:And how are we going to work the legalities? Have you actually thought that through? Do you know what it would do to troop moral, and to their faith in us, if it seemed that the rules don't apply to officers? I can damn well keep from clanking him again if it's going to be an issue.:_

"Ratchet, since you broke at least half a dozen regulations I can think of last night," Optimus said, aloud, "I believe that an official reprimand and punishment duties will be appropriate. I am also, as of today, granting both Frenzy and Soundwave asylum and placing them in protective custody …"

"... which eliminates any restrictions on intimate relations with prisoners, going forward." Ratchet raised an eyebrow at Frenzy. "I'm sure that Steeljaw will appreciate that."

Frenzy's small, almost shy, smile, told him _Frenzy _appreciated that.

Ratchet added privately to the symbiont, _:Just you be careful, kiddo. You're a lot more vulnerable than I am. So's Steelie.: _

_:Tell me something I don't know,: _Frenzy retorted.

_:And that leaves your truly justified ethical prohibitions against intimacy with patients.: _Optimus said, privately, to Ratchet. _:Ratchet, my friend, I understand your concerns. However, we are _all _your patients. If you adhere to those ethics as strictly as you would like, you will be forever apart and alone. Moreover, if you are concerned about placing me in an awkward position, it is not _my _responsibility to pass judgement on your actions as a medic. I believe that would fall under the jurisdiction of the Iaconian Medical Ethics Board.:_

_:Which no longer exists.: _Ratchet sighed, suddenly feeling very depressed. _Iacon _didn't exist anymore. This was, actually, a point that he was well aware of. It was depressing to realize that not only were all his prospective partners his patients, but also that any partner he took would be likely to end up in his med bay, injured or dying. They'd lost so many slagging people.

Soundwave was highly unlikely to see combat, ever again. There was that, at least. He would probably never turn up in Ratchet's med bay with battle wounds. It was ironic, but his injuries had rendered him more likely than most to live to the end of the war.

Optimus's optics were full of compassion now. That kind-sparked, gentle, understanding nature made Ratchet love him as a brother as well as, occasionally, pissed him off six ways to Primus. He was somewhere in the middle, right now, both vexed and deeply fond of Prime at the same time.

His leader said gently, soothingly, _:Ratchet, he's alone. _You _are alone. I have no moral objections to a relationship between you - only caution. I know your understanding of the reasons behind our standard of ethics and your deeply rooted morals will guide you well. However, do be sure that he understands your intentions, and you understand his.:_

_:That's slagging hard when he can't talk, or understand me.:_

_:Sometimes, sparks may transcend words.: _

_:You mean, show him with actions?: _Ratchet felt some of his grouchy mood returning. _:Then how do I know he's not fragging me out of a sense of obligation, as payment for my kindness? Other than asking the kid, and I don't trust Frenzy to give me an honest answer. I also don't believe him when he says he's not jealous.: _

_:I do.: _Optimus smiled faintly. _:I believe Frenzy. You have never been bonded, Ratchet. I have … I could not imagine mistrusting Elita's intentions, and it is doubt in your lover's intentions that fuels jealousy. As far as what I mean …: _And here, Optimus's blue optics took on a teasing glint once more. _:You might try clanking chest plates …: _

He snorted a laugh aloud, interrupting what would doubtless have been a very blunt, very straight-faced suggestion, using crude slang, to merge sparks with Soundwave. Optimus was no noble, no matter how aristocratic his normal speech patterns were, and when the occasion required it, he was fully capable of reverting to his dock worker roots. He just didn't do so before anyone but his closest friends.

Hastily, because he got it now and he didn't need details, Ratchet interjected, _:Thank you, _Orion_. I will take that suggestion under advisement.: _

_:See that you do.: _Optimus was still teasing him. Aloud, to Frenzy, Optimus added, "Do you feel better about Ratchet, now?"

"I guess so." Frenzy eyed Ratchet warily. "You gonna be good to him? 'Cuz you'll regret it if you hurt him."

"I don't even know if this will - or can - work out." Ratchet rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah, I like your master, Frenzy, crazy as it is. I liked what I saw when I put his code back together."

"And I suspect Ratchet likes what he sees with his optics, too," Optimus said, in a stage whisper, to Frenzy.

Frenzy spun around, gave Prime a huge wide-eyed look of shock, then jerked his gaze back to Ratchet. There was utter disbelief in his expression. He clearly hadn't expected Optimus to say something like that, ever.

"Yeah, kid, believe it or not, Optimus Prime's got a sense of humor." Ratchet glowered at Prime, who was leaning back in his chair. Optimus's expression was guileless. The mech did 'innocent' far too well.

"Now, I need to assign your punishment." Optimus straightened up.

Ratchet caught the glint in Optimus's eye and comm'd Frenzy, _:Yes, he has a sense of humor, and it is evil.: _

_:Probably the only thing evil about him, then,: _Frenzy was smiling hesitantly and a little shyly at Prime as he said this. Without looking away from the Autobot leader he added,. _:Ratchet … I am sorry I misjudged your intentions.: _

_:Meh. Just don't let it happen again. You might remember I'm one of the good guys.:_

_:I think … I think I'm starting to believe that.: _Frenzy glanced back at him, then looked down, unable to meet Ratchet's optics for more than a second.

Optimus completely ignored the byplay, though he could certainly detect the encrypted transmissions between them. He said, "Ratchet, I believe that I shall assign you a punishment detail of three hours each evening, after your regular shift, working directly with Soundwave to help him regain as much function as possible."

Ratchet started to protest the 'punishment' then muted himself before he actually said anything. He intended to work with Soundwave anyway. However, three hours was a _huge _chunk of his evening free time. He'd be practically joined at the hip with Soundwave all day, since he was supervising both his recovery and the mech's work in the med bay. Additionally, he _had _planned on pushing some of Soundwave's rehab off on the other medical staff or even non-medical volunteers from the crew. Some of the work would simply involve getting him out for exercise, and practicing communication skills with him. It didn't require the CMO's attention to do that.

When he saw Optimus's expression, however, he hesitated before speaking. There was steeliy determination in those blue optics. Optimus had clearly decided to _meddle_.

_:We could end up hating each other if you force us to spend this much time together,: _Ratchet pointed out, sourly, unable to _completely _agree.

_:Or you will come to understand each other very well.: _Optimus's demeanor changed, growing grave. _:Ratchet, if you … are not interested, or truly feel you do not wish to pursue the interest you've expressed, I do not wish to pressure you. I am simply creating an opportunity for both of you. Many of the 'cons are no more evil than we are, and I fully believe Soundwave falls into that category.:_

Aloud, Optimus said, "Frenzy, you told me that you angered Soundwave earlier this morning. Before your duty shift begins, would you like to apologize to him?"

"Not like he'd understand my words," Frenzy said, sounding just a little bitter again.

"He'd understand your intent." Ratchet turned to head for the door. "C'mon, kid. He's probably in the med bay. Let's go see him."

_:Good luck, Ratchet.: _Optimus sounded inordinately cheerful.

_:I'll need it,: _he growled, as the door slid shut.

With great dignity, his comm transmission easily penetrating the closed door, Optimus replied, _:You are welcome, old friend.:_

Ratchet only barely managed to avoid the temptation to get the last word in … somehow. Confessing his sins to Prime hadn't exactly gone as he'd expected, and it had been a very long time since he'd felt quite this out of sorts. He couldn't figure out if he should be giddy with anticipation, or sourly cranky over the whole damn matter.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

* * *

Ratchet's arrival in the med bay caused a flurry of greetings from the patients and staff. Soundwave, by sheer reflex, started to comm Ratchet a private greeting - Soundwave, pleased by your presence - and caused a cascade of errors down his HUD. At least, he assumed they were errors. He couldn't read them.

Frustrated, he caught the medic's eye and nodded his head in silent greeting. It was the best he could do. After the night and morning they'd had, he felt some sort of acknowledgement was required, however.

Primus, but the medic was attractive. The small smile that Ratchet flashed him made hope well in Soundwave's spark. Perhaps last night hadn't been a fluke. Perhaps the medic had affection for him. Soundwave didn't understand it; surely, the medic could have had his choice of lovers.

None will have my level of devotion, Soundwave thought, vowing to repay Ratchet's affections with complete loyalty. He'd worked for eons for a master he'd - and he could admit it, now - quietly disliked. He was hard wired to be loyal to his oaths and to his leaders, but that didn't mean he liked Megatron.

Ratchet, he liked. He hadn't worked for a boss he liked since Fairwinds … who had also considered herself his equal, not his superior. It was disorienting to think that Ratchet didn't think of him as a servant. It made him uneasy, and he wasn't sure how to act. But he liked Ratchet a great deal, and he trusted the mech to be patient with him, or at least as patient as Ratchet was able.

Ratchet's short temper amused Soundwave. After eons of Megatron's furious rages, Ratchet's brief flares of anger were not threatening.

Ratchet was headed his way, too. Soundwave glanced at the work he'd been doing - he'd been putting together sensory circuit boards, working from the memory of shapes, colors, and symbols rather than written diagrams. His work had passed First Aid's review, but he still experienced a brief pang of worry as Ratchet approached. He didn't want to disappoint his new boss.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced of Ratchet, beneath him, clinging to him, vents roaring and body arching with arousal. The feel of Ratchet's valve, hot around him. The feel of satisfaction, when Ratchet had overloaded. His own rush of pleasure, so intense he'd nearly gone offline. Holding Ratchet close,the next morning. Ratchet refusing to let him kneel …

Ratchet, his equal.

At that thought, a smile touched his lip plates, briefly, safely hidden behind his mask. He spark was full of the most amazing sense of hope. It warred with the grief and worry, and created anxiety of its own. He was terrified to dream too much, for fear of bitter disappointment. His instincts told him that he had little chance of a real relationship with the Autobot medic … but his desire was frighteningly fierce.

Ratchet peered briefly at his work, then gave him an approving pat on the arm and flashed him a smile. He nodded his head in acknowledgement again, then blinked behind his visor when Ratchet caught his elbow and encouraged him to stand up. The medic pointed at the door to his office.

Puzzled by what Ratchet could want, Soundwave grabbed his cane and followed the medic across the med bay. Inside the office, Frenzy was seated on Ratchet's desk, kicking his legs like a sparkling, and Soundwave tensed, hoping he wouldn't need to intercede again. Frenzy would accept Ratchet eventually, but he wasn't surprised by his symbiont's protective fury now.

However,, the fury seemed to be gone. Frenzy and Ratchet seemed to be back on good terms. Frenzy stood up on the desk and flashed the medic a hesitant smile. Then Frenzy reached a hand out and rested it hesitantly on Soundwave's wrist, and gazed up at him with wide optics. Frenzy felt uncertain, even scared - which, given the context, alarmed Soundwave. Frenzy had never been frightened of him, or his reactions. Frenzy's confidence and trust in his love had always been a source of delight to Soundwave.

He had been a little harsh on Frenzy, he supposed, and more than once. He'd repeatedly frightened the very mech he was so terrified himself of losing. Guilt seized his spark. He owed Frenzy an apology. He had no idea how to convey that, however, Frenzy needed to know he was loved, and forgiven.

He glanced over at Ratchet, then at the closed door. Ratchet smiled at him encouragingly, and said something to Frenzy in a soft voice at odds with the medic's normal brusque tone.

Frenzy sighed suddenly, and pressed against Soundwave's torso, arms spreading around as far as he could to hug Soundwave. Soundwave embraced him back, lifting him off the table and just holding him. Frenzy's worry eased as Soundwave hitched him higher, and the little mech transferred his hug to Soundwave's neck.

For a moment, his entire attention was focused on his symbiont. Primus, but he loved Frenzy. He'd do anything to keep him. Frenzy whimpered faintly, clearly near tears. He didn't want that - he could tell that Frenzy's attention had been drawn back to everything, and everyone, they had lost. He squeezed him tighter, for a moment, and opened the bond wide, so Frenzy could see how worried Soundwave was - and how much he loved him.

After a moment, Frenzy nodded, and said something low and soft. Soundwave set him down, and with a sad wave, his symbiont walked out the door.

Ratchet was smiling. Suddenly self-conscious, and realizing just how much emotion he'd displayed in front of the medic, he straightened up reflexively. Ratchet must have picked up his unease, because the medic also pulled himself erect from his slouch, and frowned faintly.

That was, he was beginning to recognize, a classic Ratchet-response to feeling self conscious. He chuckled, his mask rendering the noise into an emotionless warble, and Ratchet gave him a puzzled look. Clearly, he hadn't recognized the sound. Then, with what was obviously a mental shrug, he headed for the door.

Soundwave reached out, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him into a hug. Ratchet struggled briefly, then relented. The medic felt so good against him. His systems hummed with a little more power as the embrace reminded him of how intimate they had been last night, and how very good it had felt. Ratchet, too, tightened his grip on Soundwave, and rested his head against the taller mech's chest in one brief moment of surrender. Then he clapped Soundwave on the back and stepped away.

Soundwave's spark sang. Something about the way that Ratchet had allowed Soundwave to hold him said he had a chance.

Ratchet straightened up again, plastered what looked like a rather fake smile on his face, and marched out into the med bay. Soundwave followed. The staff immediately peppered Ratchet with noise that had the intonation of questions. He trailed after Ratchet, uncertain if he should return to his previous task or if the medic might need assistance.

The latter proved to be true when Ratchet indicated he should follow with a summoning crook of one finger. A mech - Sideswipe, Soundwave identified - was face down on a berth, most of his dorsal plating removed. This exposed his communications arrays, which appeared to have taken a pretty good surge. Soundwave recognized the damage that Starscream's null rays could do at close range to comm circuits. The antennas would pick up an extra charge that burned components out.

Ratchet pushed a tray of tools and a stool over to the berth, adjusted a light to shine on the area, then stepped back and indicated Soundwave should get to work. Soundwave smiled behind his mask, inclined his head in acknowledgement, leaned his cane against the side of the berth, and seated himself.

Sideswipe twisted his head sideways, saw who was about to work on him, and was off the berth in two seconds flat, knocking a surgical light flying and ripping out an IV. He snarled what was undoubtedly an epithet laced protest even as Ratchet dove for the light. Soundwave had heard Sideswipe's running commentary during combat often enough to fill in the blanks; Ratchet's snarling response was equally foul mouthed.

Soundwave held both empty hands up, and made no aggressive moves. He'd thought the mech was drugged when he'd sat down.

Ratchet had no such hesitation about displaying aggression. After righting the lamp, he grabbed Sideswipe from behind by the neck. Sideswipe shouted, twisted, and got his feet swept out from underneath him by an irritated medic for his efforts. He landed with a crash across the berth. Ratchet smacked him across the back of the helm with an open hand and then launched into a tirade of insults.

Behind his mask, Soundwave smirked with real appreciation for how easily Ratchet had taken control. The mech had authority!

Ratchet banged on Sideswipe's leg with a closed fist and yelled something else. The mech snarled something back, but he did lift his legs up onto the berth. Ratchet proceeded to address the entire room in a very annoyed voice, occasionally stabbing a finger at Soundwave.

Soundwave's smirk, unseen by anyone, grew broader. It was clear that Ratchet was making Soundwave's position as Ratchet's helper clear to the room. He found Ratchet's cranky tone amusing, and heartening. Amusing, because compared to most 'con officers. Ratchet's tirade wasn't even notable - yet his staff and the soldiers in the med bay were staring at him with wide optics. They were giving him their full, undivided, and apparently thoroughly intimidated attention. Heartening, because Ratchet's actions implied he was demanding a certain amount of public respect for Soundwave.

Ratchet concluded his lecture by slamming his hand down on the berth by Sideswipe's head, making the soldier jump. He then snagged up the end of the IV, thrust it in Soundwave's direction, and as soon as Soundwave took it, he stalked off to his office. The door hissed shut behind him, and the room promptly erupted into conversation.

Soundwave highly doubted that the medic had just admitted to 'facing him. However, he'd clearly said a few pointed things to everyone that established Soundwave as Ratchet's … what, servant? He wasn't sure. Whatever he was, however, was a step up from 'Decepticon prisoner.'

He regarded Sideswipe warily.

Sideswipe lay perfectly still, until Soundwave made no move in his direction. Then the soldier thrust his wrist out impatiently. Energon ran in a rivulet from a torn line. He realized that Sideswipe had damaged a fuel line when he'd ripped the drip out. Soundwave picked a couple of clamps up off the tray, and a rag, then swabbed the purple fluid off Sideswipe's arm.

The door to the med bay whooshed open and Sideswipe's golden twin stalked in, moving with slow and lethal grace. Without a word he crossed the med bay and loomed behind Soundwave, face an impassive mask of unspoken threat.

Soundwave twisted around briefly to look at the twin. Sunstreaker made him nervous; the twin was unpredictable, and had a reputation for a marked lack of compassion coupled with extreme violence and athleticism. Decepticon soldiers feared him. Soundwave didn't think he could win a fight with Sunstreaker in his current condition, and he doubted he'd have the element of surprise to his advantage. Sunstreaker's body language was blatantly alert and threatening.

Soundwave decided a distraction or two was in order. He put pressure on the damaged fuel line with the rag and one hand, produced his data pad from subspace, and set it down on the tray beside the bed. He quickly sketched a picture of the clamp he needed to seal off the line, and showed it to Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker grunted.

Soundwave stabbed a finger at the clamp, held up two fingers to indicate he needed two, and pointed firmly at the cabinet where he knew the medics kept them.

Sunstreaker hesitated.

Soundwave sighed audibly, shrugged, and lifted Sideswipe's wrist up, pointed at Sunstreaker, and then pointed at the energon soaked rag. He mimed putting pressure on the injury with his free hand. Then he snagged his cane, stood up, and walked away.

The tall golden warrior gaped at him, then hastily grabbed his brother's arm and took over, jamming the heel of his hand against the rag. Soundwave's mask hid his smile - he'd just given the warrior something to worry about besides Soundwave himself. The injury was a long way from Sideswipe's spark and he'd have to leak like that for hours to reach a critically low fuel pressure level (and his auto repair would fix it long before then) but the fuel was flammable, and slippery, and he didn't want it dripping all over while he welded and soldered in new parts for Sideswipe's communications array. If he didn't end up with a fire, he'd probably step in it and fall.

Soundwave made his way to the cabinet, swaying with every uneven stride. He was well aware of Sunstreaker's optics on him. When he turned, the warrior's jaw was set with irritation, but there was also an uncertain light in his eyes.

He picked out the clamps he needed, a repair patch, and a tube of nanyte repair gel. Then he made his way back to the berth, where Sunstreaker gave him a hard stare before relinquishing his brother's arm.

He peeled the energon soaked rag off, and thrust it in Sunstreaker's direction. The warrior took it, with a puzzled look, until Soundwave stabbed a finger towards the metal bucket reserved for such inflammable rags. Sunstreaker muttered something but carried the rag off to dispose of it, and while he did, Soundwave clamped the patch around the ruptured line, and smeared the gel over it. The gel clotted with the energon to form an impermeable barrier, the mesh fabric of the patch gave it strength, and the repair nanytes in it would eventually seal the fuel line with a permanent repair.

He'd made that repair in a few moments - most soldiers could. That was basic field first aid. However, he was gratified when Sunstreaker returned with a bucket of soapy water and several more rags. Pleased that the soldier had thought to bring cleaning supplies, he ignored Sunstreaker's attempt to hand them to him and moved around to the other side of the table.

Sunstreaker favored him with a sour look, and began washing the spilled energon from his brother's plating. Soundwave kept half an optic on him, making sure the soldier was being thorough, while he located an access port on Sideswipe's other wrist and inserted the IV. Then, without comment, he leaned over the red soldier's prone body grabbed a roll of that human invention called duct tape from the tray of supplies. He taped the IV line down securely with several feet of tape wrapped around Sideswipe's arm, prompting Sunstreaker to laugh and tease his brother and Sideswipe to pull his arm free of Soundwave's grasp and favor his brother with a one-finger salute.

Soundwave had no desire to patch another line if Sideswipe made another escape attempt. He wasn't entirely sure what the yellow twin had said, though he assumed it was probably offensive and crude. The two of them reminded him of his own set of young twins … Sideswipe was a bit like Frenzy, and Sunstreaker was more than a little like Rumble.

That realization made him smile sadly behind his mask, just one corner of his mouth lifting up. He understood them, probably better than they would ever realize.

Sunny was worried for his brother, he realized, and Soundwave decided that the young soldier might appreciate truly helping him. He'd started out just meaning to distract the soldier from his paranoid assumptions, but Sunstreaker had nimble fingers and a fine attention to detail. Soundwave's paint job was a testament to that! After he got the IV going - it had pain killers and sedatives in it, judging by the color - he got Sunstreaker's attention by snapping his fingers, then pointed at a clearly damaged transmitter. Then he handed Sunstreaker a pair of wire cutters and a screwdriver and mimed removing it.

Sunstreaker stared at him. Sideswipe, half sedated by this point, made a faintly questioning noise.

Soundwave ignored that astonished expression, and headed for the supply room to find a replacement part. By the time he returned, Sunstreaker had removed both the transmitter and a damaged antenna and put them on the tray. He was also laughing and clearly teasing his twin.

Soundwave pulled the stool up, adjusted the light to shin on the area, and then, after examining the antenna and verifying it was burned out, he handed it back to Sunstreaker and pointed at the supply room. Sunstreaker headed off willingly enough, and Soundwave got to work installing the new transmitter. 

* * *

"You know," Wheeljack said, some time later, "I wish he could talk. It's hard to know someone when you can't talk to them."

Ratchet glanced up from the very tricky and complicated task of rewiring Hot Rod's left leg. The kid had been walking around on a numb limb with half the actuators offline, the hydraulic sensors dead, and a brace made from an truck's bumper welded to his shattered femoral strut. It was a minor miracle that the whole mess of a leg hadn't simply collapsed under him.

He turned most of his attention back to the repair job, but he answered, "It's possible to say a lot without using any words."

"Yeah." First Aid approached with a cube of energon in his hand. "Here, boss. You've been working for twelve hours straight."

Wheeljack said, "What about me?"

First Aid grinned at him, only a little impudently. "You've got feet. Use them."

Ratchet stared into the cube of energon for a moment, then offered it to Wheeljack. "I've got some cubes in my office."

"High grade," Wheeljack said, then pressed his lips together, like he'd said too much.

Ratchet, remembering the results of his last binge, glanced over at Soundwave. Unlike the rest of the med bay and engineering staff, who were all gathered for a break, Soundwave was scrubbing dirt and oil off a berth. They'd all worked hard, and Soundwave as hard as any of them. Now that queue of mechs with minor injuries was finally, finally, cleared out, and a good chunk of the body work done, they could rest. Soundwave, however, had kept working when the others had quit - cleaning, now that nobody was left to repair.

"I meant what I said, earlier," Ratchet said, as he leaned over and picked a stray nut up off the floor. He grinned as he said, "I expect that Soundwave will be treated with the same courtesy that any other member of the staff gets."

With precision, he threw the nut across the med bay so it zinged off Soundwave's helmet. It was too light to do any damage, but it would definitely get Soundwave's attention. Soundwave had done enough. He'd worked as hard as the rest of them, and he didn't need to play cleaning drone as well, when they had perfectly good enlisted soldiers for that role.

Soundwave jumped, spun about, caught his balance with a hand on a berth, and stood motionless, looking for the source of the object that had zinged off his helm. He even glanced upwards, as if he thought something might have fallen from the ceiling, before fixing the group of Autobots - Ratchet, Perceptor, Wheeljack, First Aid and Skyfire - with an unreadable glint in his visor.

First Aid had sucked in a startled invent of air at Ratchet's actions. Skyfire had snorted a soft laugh. The rest of them were just staring at their CMO iin astonishment.

Ratchet grinned and mimed pitching the bolt for Soundwave's enlightenment. Then he stabbed a finger at the floor next to him. "Get over here, you." Soundwave couldn't understand the words, but he could certainly understand the hand gestures.

The mech nodded, but he detoured to the sink with a bucket of wash water and dumped it out.

"He's a neat freak," Wheeljack observed. "Probably needs to feel control."

"Thank you for the Psychology 101 analysis." Ratchet gave him a sour look.

"Just saying." Wheeljack shrugged. "So what do you see in him, anyway?"

Alarm thrilled through Ratchet's circuits, and he tried not to show a visible reaction. Possibly, he failed, because Skyfire was studying him intently. However, he realized that Wheeljack was just wondering why Ratchet was defending the former 'con so firmly and he'd read too much into the statement. Skyfire's expression was a bit more suspicious.

Once he'd mastered control of his vocalizer, Ratchet said quietly, "I've been spark deep in his memories and code, Wheeljack."

"And …?" Wheeljack prompted.

"Let it go, 'Jack," Skyfire said, voice firm. "That's verging on confidential. Ratchet can't talk about what he saw."

"No, I can't. I've archived and file-locked his personal data and memories, anyway." Ratchet sighed. He didn't want casual access to Soundwave's memories as that would be unethical. "But suffice to say I understand why he made some of the decisions he did, even if I don't agree with his choices."

They weren't satisfied with that answer, he could tell. It would have to do, at least for now. Soundwave was heading in their direction. Ratchet offered him the energon cube, earning himself a scowl from Wheeljack. Ratchet, sensitive to the fact that they were low on energon, explained, "He's using more energon than any two of us combined - and he can't tell what his fuel levels are. He was getting low when I checked him a little bit ago."

Soundwave glanced around at the Autobots, then down at the cube in his hand, and Wheeljack snorted. "He doesn't want to take his mask off, Ratchet."

Ratchet sighed. Wheeljack would empathize with that. He put a hand on Soundwave's back and propelled him towards the door. Soundwave could refuel in his - their - quarters. "Dismissed, everyone."

"Need any help with him?" Skyfire asked, as the others headed for the exit.

"No." Ratchet said, firmly. "I'm fine."

Skyfire stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Ratchet, if you need someone to talk to …"

"About what?" Ratchet growled at him.

Skyfire smiled, unoffended by Ratchet's cantankerous tone. "What you said earlier, when you lost your temper - about us needing to, as you put it, 'slagging forgive if not forget, and quit acting like he's got cosmic rust,' - it was correct. You have forgiven him yourself, have you not?"

"My job is to heal." Ratchet growled. "Not figure out guilt."

"Mmhmm." Skyfire regarded Soundwave for a moment. "You turned him loose on the twins as a test, didn't you?"

"No." Ratchet denied that. "I knew Soundwave could handle them. He needs to be integrated with the crew. It's good for him and good for them to get used to each other."

"Ah." Skyfire chuckled. "You were watching on the monitor in your office?"

"Yeah. I'm not stupid." Ratchet rested a hand casually on Soundwave's arm. "The twins can be unpredictable. They learned something, I think."

"So did I," Skyfire flashed Soundwave a grin. Soundwave reacted by lifting his chin up and tensing a bit in surprise. Ratchet remembered he had no idea what the discussion was about. Skyfire continued, musing, "After seeing him with them, next time I need to work on one of the twins, I'll involve the other one."

"That works until one of them is in serious shape. Don't try it if either of them is critical. They're both prone to panic. For minor repairs, I usually kick the healthy twin out because they slagging annoy me with the banter."

Skyfire laughed. "That is true. Not something Soundwave would have a problem with."

The insults and teasing between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had verged on obscene. Sunny had teased Sideswipe about enjoying being face-down with a Decepticon touching him, and it had gone downhill from there.

He patted Soundwave's arm. "I doubt he'd be offended anyway, considering his bondmates."

Skyfire snorted a real laugh. "When am I going to get to borrow Frenzy, anyway? 'Jack had him fabricating replacement components for the med bay all day in his lab. He definitely knows his way around a shop, and I've got some bits I need made for the spy drone that Optimus has me building." He wiggled his overlarge fingers. "I'd need tweezers to make them myself."

"Medical needs come first." Ratchet frowned. "I'll get 'Aid to do a quick inventory, and once we've restocked our parts inventory, you can borrow him in a few days. Optimus promised him training, as well as work, so I'd like you to figure out where his knowledge level is currently and then uptrain him."

"Anything in particular you want him trained on?" Skyfire asked, tilting his head to one side.

"What do we need more mechs skilled in?"

Skyfire blew a short exvent out, sighing in aggravation. "Our numbers are too small. We need mechs skilled in everything."

"What can you teach him that would be useful?" Ratchet glanced up at Soundwave, who was standing politely next to them, still and silent. "I'm going to take Frenzy as an unofficial medical apprentice - maybe official, later, if he's interested. But I'd like to expose him to a few disciplines. Steelie was an architect before the war, believe it or not, and I'm going to ask him to tutor Frenzy on building design and maybe get them involved in a couple projects with Grapple. Wheeljack's going to work with him on energy conversion weapons …"

"Is that wise?"

Ratchet shrugged. "The Decepticons have Starscream, who knows more about energy weapons than all the Autobot scientists combined. I doubt Frenzy's at all interested in returning to the 'cons, but if he goes insane and does, he won't know anything that the 'cons don't. Optimus has cleared it."

"Hmm. Starscream's good, it's true - we're fortunate that he has zero attention span and getting him to focus on any one project for more than a few klicks has always been an issue. Now, of course, my specialties are metereology, flight engineering, and interstellar travel. If he's learning architecture from Steelie, I might get him involved in designing the courier ship I've been working on. They're complimentary disciplines, and I am not good at interior design. Maybe he can tackle the floor plan."

"Sounds like a plan." Ratchet nodded approvingly. "I'll make sure he has time to talk to you tomorrow."

Skyfire nodded. "Hopefully, he'll stop being so jumpy around me. You'd think he was afraid I was going to squish him."

"He probably is," Ratchet said, "considering where he's from."

"True." Skyfire grinned. "Well, I should let you get gone."

"Thanks, Skyfire." Ratchet flashed him a brief smile.

"No problem." Skyfire reached out and squeezed Soundwave's shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Soundwave."

Soundwave couldn't understand the words, and he flinched visibly at the touch. However, he steadied after a second, and nodded his head at Skyfire, in quick acknowledgment. Skyfire looked briefly dismayed at Soundwave's jumpy reaction, then said wryly, "Looks like Frenzy's not the only one who's lived too long among the 'cons. - He'll take awhile to really believe that we're different, won't he?"

"Probably. Later, Skyfire." Ratchet guided Soundwave out of the med bay with a hand on his back. Soundwave did not object to his touch, he was pleased to note. To Soundwave, he said, "I'm going to need to get you to work with Skyfire a bit, too. You need friends. Isolation isn't healthy for anyone, and Primus knows I'm horrible company. Skyfire's a good mech."

Soundwave rested his hand on Ratchet's shoulder. It could have just been to help with his balance, but he was moving well enough now with just his cane for stability. When Soundwave's fingers subtly squeezed at Ratchet's plating he flinched with guilty memories, and then forced himself to flash Soundwave a smile. In a cheerful tone that felt fake he said, "C'mon, you. Let's go give you a few more words. I'm up for three hours if you are …"

It would be nice, he thought, when he could actually talk to Soundwave! 

* * *

Soundwave sipped at the cube of high grade that Ratchet had served him, and then flashed his master a smile.

He wasn't sure what to expect from Ratchet when they'd returned to Ratchet's quarters, but he hadn't even considered the prospect of English lessons. Ratchet had guided him to the couch, sat down next to him, and then instead of the fragging session Soundwave had halfway expected, he'd produced a datapad.

They'd spent the past several hours going over vocabulary. This should have been more frustrating than it had actually proven to be. He knew English, but he couldn't access those data files and connect them to the images he was seeing. He could think in English. He could learn to recognize each word as a symbol. He couldn't connect the two concepts. The hardware connections needed for that were just not there.

Still, seven hours later, Ratchet showed no sign of losing interest, and Soundwave had acquired a vocabulary of about a hundred nouns, the English names of all of the mechs and humans at the base, two dozen words conveying emotions, and four useful verbs: "Get," "Go," "Fix," and "Want." The last word had been the hardest to understand, requiring multiple video examples, animated stick figure sketches, pictures, and pantomine. He thought he understood that 'want' conveyed general desire to posses a thing or to have an outcome happen. Nouns were easy to learn. Verbs were much harder.

He glanced at the clock on his datapad, currently held by Ratchet. It was getting very late, and he assumed they had plenty of work tomorrow. Ratchet might not be showing any signs of flagging, but he suspected that the medic would regret it later if he continued to stay awake. He needed recharge, and Soundwave felt a little guilty for monopolizing his time. He also didn't want Ratchet to burn out and come to resent him.

Ratchet had pulled up a picture of a laser scalpel on Soundwave's datapad, and presumably planned to teach Soundwave that word. Soundwave reached out and firmly pulled the datapad from Ratchet's grasp. He ignored Ratchet's attempt to grab it back, and the subsequent grouchy grumble from the mech, and pointed at the clock. Then he wrote, "Ratchet go berth?"

It was a complete sentence. It was communication. His spark soared at that realization. This was going to work. He'd be able to talk again, to make his thoughts, his wants, his desires and his fears known. He would be able to thank Ratchet for everything he'd done, and he would be able to express to the justifiably suspicious Autobots that he would be loyal if they would simply give Frenzy a home, friends, and a purpose, and treat both of them well. His needs were not great, and he had no loyalty to Megatron now.

He didn't believe in their cause, but he believed in Frenzy's welfare. He hadn't believed in Megatron's ideals, either. He simply wanted to survive to the end of the war, and if that meant helping the Autobots, that was acceptable. Surely, the 'bots could respect that!

Ratchet nodded slowly. He rose, and offered Soundwave a hand up. Soundwave grimaced, unable to hide his distaste for the daily maintenance that he knew Ratchet needed to perform on him. It made him feel like an invalid, and he couldn't help but see it as embarrassing, to need the medic's help with such basic tasks as checking fluid levels and changing oil.

He didn't protest, however, and obediently followed Ratchet into the wash rack. Ratchet's touch was clinical and efficient, for which he was grateful. He shuttered his optics and tried to pretend that this utterly humiliating and degrading fifteen minutes wasn't happening.

For the first time that day, he wondered where Frenzy was. That realization surprised him. Frenzy was safe here; safer than he'd ever been on the Nemesis. He trusted the Autobots to keep his symbiont safe, and treat him well. Other than a few flares of irritation, and once a real fit of frustration that had suddenly morphed into deep amusement - likely, the kid was being teased - he'd felt nothing negative from Frenzy all day. There was a constant undercurrent of sadness and loneliness, but it wasn't acute. His symbiont had still found things to be amused at all day, and there had been a self-satisfied feeling of accomplishment a few hours ago.

Now, Frenzy was blocking the bond, but Soundwave could feel a certain note of contentment and acceptance trickling through. He was with someone - likely, Steeljaw - who made him feel safe and warm. Soundwave thought he was probably having a deep conversation, which pleased Soundwave. The kid needed somebody to talk to.

It also worried him. He desperately didn't want to lose Frenzy.

Soundwave want Frenzy. He'd have to express that to the kid. He wondered what the English word was for love.

Ratchet closed his chest plates with a firm click, startling him from his distracted thoughts. He blinked down at the medic for a moment, and Ratchet chuckled at him, finding something funny that eluded Soundwave. Hopefully, the medic wasn't laughing at his disabilities … no. Ratchet wouldn't.

Ratchet would never laugh at him, though he was certain the medic would laugh with him.

The medic gave him a friendly push in the direction of the wash rack's exit, and Soundwave had a whole new reason for feeling good when he barely even staggered. A few more days and perhaps he'd be able to get around without the cane, at least on level ground. 

* * *

As he'd told the others, he'd been confident that Soundwave could handle himself with the twins. Neither twin was as sociopathic as was generally believed, and Soundwave had spent a significant percentage of his life working with aggressive soldiers. It had, however, been part of a calculated plan to get the crew used to Soundwave.

Soundwave had exceeded Ratchet's expectations. He'd not just worked calmly with the twins, but Ratchet thought he'd made a huge stride towards earning their respect. Sunstreaker had left the med bay with a distinctly thoughtful expression on his face.

The tall mech, swaying only a little, settled onto the edge of the berth and Ratchet reached for the monitoring cables. Ratchet had left them off the night before, but it was probably best that he be monitored during recharge - there was an outside chance that Soundwave could still suffer another crash. Soundwave frowned down at them for a moment, then looked up at Ratchet with his expression showing rare hesitance. Then, with intent obviously clear, he reached out and traced a finger down Ratchet's armt.

Ratchet also hesitated. It's too soon, he thought. A relationship - and he still thought he was mad to consider it - required communication, didn't it? Still, that look was both wary and interested, in equal parts.

Impulsively, he pinged Frenzy.

:Yeah?: Frenzy answered, with no hostility.

:Kid, can you answer me a couple personal questions about your boss?:

:If you promise to never, ever call me 'kid' again.: Frenzy's response was swift, and a little annoyed.

:Deal.:

:Shoot.:

:This is definitely personal but - did he have many relationships?:

:Other than getting fragged by Megatron a few times?: Frenzy sounded sour. :He was bonded, but you know that. Didn't you see his memories when you hacked him?:

:Yes and no. What I did see, I've archived and locked the files. I can't view it without deliberate effort, and that would be unethical. What I know about him is only from what I actually consciously saw and incorporated into my own memory. That wasn't much. I put the directory trees back into place and pieced together some corrupted files, and I downloaded quite a bit of intelligence - codes and troop positions and the like - that he had in databases, since I was already hacked in and we wouldn't have another chance, and ….

:Yeah, got it, Soundwave did the same thing to more than a few Autobots, minus archiving the personal bits. From what I sense from him, he still likes you. He didn't take it personally.:

Frenzy's tone was teasing. Ratchet snorted. :Good to know he's not going to stab me in the spark during recharge.:

:Yeah, I think there's other parts of you he'd like to stab.:

:Frenzy!: Ratchet objected, but he was laughing. :That's a tad inappropriate.:

:Oh, I'm just getting warmed up.: Frenzy's voice was a smooth purr of innuendo. :Never did figure you for a valve mech, but Soundwave's definitely all spike …:

Ratchet snorted. :Kid, when you're as old as I am, you learn it doesn't matter who plugs who as long as you have a good time.:

:Ratchet!: Now Frenzy sounded scandalized.

:Good night, kid.:

:What was your question, anyway?:

:You just answered it.: He cut the connection, and settled onto the berth beside Soundwave. With expert fingers, he checked over several welds that had worried him. All looked good; Soundwave's auto-repair was slowly replacing the welded material with more durable and less brittle metal. Natural Cybertronian plating had a kind of matrix to it, with long chains of molecules. Welded metal wasn't as strong or flexible; it was, essentially, a scar.

His autorepair would replace the welds with a cybertronium based metallic matrix over time. With as much damage as Soundwave had taken, and as many welds and replaced internals as he had, it would be a long time before he was fully healed. Still, he could already see that the edges of the welds were being replaced.

He was … stalling.

Soundwave put a hand over Ratchet's fingers, and gave him a very significant glance. Then he spread his knees and ran the fingers of his other hand over his interface hatch, and smiled. He tugged at Ratchet's hand.

Ratchet resisted, and pinged Frenzy.

:What now?: Frenzy demanded.

:Could you do me a huge favor and tell me your master's mood?:

:He's worried and scared to death about something.:

:No … desire?:

:None.:

:Slag. Thanks, kid.:

:Megatron made him hurt. For what it's worth.: Frenzy cut the connection.

Ratchet shook his head, wondering if the discussion with Frenzy had been inappropriate, or necessary. It was illuminating. He said aloud, "Soundwave, you want me, don't you? You're doing this because you think it's the only way you can have me?"

He cupped a hand to Soundwave's face, stroking his thumb over the mech's cheek arch. "Soundwave," he said, quietly, "it doesn't need to be this way. I'm attracted to your intelligence and your courage and dignity, and I don't have any desire for you to submit to me. That's what you're trying to do, isn't it?"

Soundwave couldn't understand his words. The mech turned his mouth towards Ratchet's hand and kissed his palm.

He sighed. He wouldn't be interfacing with Soundwave tonight, but he was afraid if he left, Soundwave would take it as a rejection. He felt suddenly, fiercely, protective. He was anticipating this courtship, in ways he'd never known before. He wanted to see Soundwave succeed, to relearn communication and to find a place among the Autobots. He wanted to show Soundwave the difference between a master and a friend and lover. It was so very, very possible.

He wasn't normally a demonstrative mech, but Ratchet didn't feel particularly self-conscious when he slid into the berth next to Soundwave. Soundwave clearly expected Ratchet to frag him, because he spread his knees wider. Ratchet pushed the closest knee away, and simply lay against Soundwave, putting one arm across his broad chest.

"Look at me," he grumbled, "snuggling! I'm too old and cranky for this."

Soundwave was very still, and quiet, for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he rolled over onto his side and wrapped his arms around Ratchet. He was reminded of Soundwave's greater size when the mech easily pulled Ratchet into his embrace.

Ratchet tensed, unsure what Soundwave was going to do. However, Soundwave simply held him, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and spooned up against him. He could hear Soundwave's fans running a little fast, and when he twisted around to look up, he could see Soundwave's expression.

The mech was smiling at him softly, real affection on his features. He didn't have to ask Frenzy to know that Soundwave was content, and no longer worried. The look on the mech's face easy enough to read; he was happy.

Soundwave put his head down and arranged his arms a little more comfortably around Ratchet. For a moment, he traced a light circle around one of Ratchet's vents, long fingers nimble and confident. Then he started to power down.

I'm too damn old and cranky for this, Ratchet thought, but it wasn't true. Soundwave's arms felt right, and the powerful body pressed up against his seemed like it belonged there. His spark fluttered with sudden, giddy hope. As Soundwave slipped into a steady, stable recharge, Ratchet whispered, "... I'm a fool."

He didn't feel at all foolish. 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

* * *

"You sure this is okay?" Frenzy shifted nervously in front of the door to the Witwicky's quarters while Steeljaw knocked. The humans had lived on the Ark for almost two decades, after taking over a storage cabinet in Bumblebee's quarters. They'd turned it into what was, for humans, a spacious apartment. The cabinet was bigger than most human homes.

Steeljaw smirked at him, knowing the expression would annoy Frenzy just enough to make him forget about his fears. Frenzy, on his best behavior and worried about how people might react to him, was adorable. He teased gently, "Scared of a few humans?"

Frenzy snapped, :I can behave. I've gotten into trouble plenty of times when I didn't deserve it, though. The humans got no reason to like me. I can't afford trouble.:

:You will be fine. Carly is very fair, and she will give you a chance to prove yourself: Steeljaw rested his head against Frenzy's chest, hearing the thrum of Frenzy's systems and feeling the heat of his spark. Frenzy hugged him back, fingers trailing down his neck, grip just a little too tight.

Frenzy was trying so hard, Steeljaw realized, but it was the first time he'd heard the other symbiont really voice his concerns. He was apparently terrified he would 'get in trouble' and he trusted the Autobots so little that he feared even a minor mis-step might cause them to turn on him.

When the door slid open, Steeljaw leisurely straightened up while Frenzy frantically stiffened and pushed away. Steeljaw wasn't worried about Daniel's opinion, but Frenzy was trying so hard not to get 'caught' showing too much affection to said calmly, "Hey, Daniel."

"Steelie." The young man's gaze flicked from Frenzy to Steeljaw and back. "Umm, Mom said you were coming over."

"Daniel," Steeljaw bumped his forehead against the human's chest and collected a hug from the young man, "You know Frenzy, but maybe reintroductions are in order. Frenzy, this is one of my best friends in the world, Daniel Witwicky. Daniel, this is Frenzy, who, you will note, is no longer a 'con and is also my friend."

"You're saying play nice, huh?" Daniel said, with a somewhat nervous laugh. "I can do that."

"Thanks, Dan." Steeljaw cast Frenzy a teasing grin as he entered the human quarters. "If Frenzy doesn't play nice, I'll bite him for you."

"Ooooh, I'm so scared," Frenzy stepped through the doorway and poked Steeljaw with one finger. His humor sounded a little forced. "You know I could beat your aft."

"You keep saying that, you're gonna need to prove it." Steeljaw smirked at him over one shoulder, and bumped him with his hip. Frenzy retaliated by poking Steeljaw between a gap in his armor, accurately nailing a sensor array with just enough force to tickle. Steeljaw swung his tail hard into Frenzy's aft with a loud metallic clang, then shied aside with Frenzy tried to swat him hard. Frenzy's reaction was much more natural than his earlier forced humor. He'd managed to harass Frenzy into forgetting his fear.

"Guys," Daniel said, a little bit of worry in his voice. "Not in here. Umm, take it outside if you're gonna fight, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry," Steeljaw purred, "I'm housebroken. I'm not sure about the runt."

"Runt!" Frenzy spluttered, but he was grinning. "Look who's talking, Mousebreath."

"... Mousebreath?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, it's a great story …" .

"Later, Sweetspark." Steeljaw's endearment would have given a lot more away about their relationship if it hadn't been delivered in quite so sarcastic of a tone. "Daniel, is your mom here yet?"

"Yeah, she's in her office." Daniel patted him affectionately on the shoulder. "Go on up. And have fun. Frenzy, you have to tell me that story later."

"I will, unless Steelie can bribe me into silence first."

:Frenzy!: He protested the implications.

:Didn't say what kind of bribe it had to be, Mouser.:

:Oh, really?: He narrowed his eyes at the other symbiont.

:Oh, really, big boy: Frenzy's innocent expression was totally at odds with the sultry tone he'd adopted. He was also totally joking; the sexy tone wasn't any more 'Frenzy' than the innocent expression.

:it is very disturbing when you do that,: Steeljaw informed him.

Daniel, oblivious to the byplay, advised Frenzy, "I've always found that Steelie was easy to bribe with D&D books."

"Really?" Frenzy sounded intrigued. "I read a bit about that, but me'n Rumble didn't have anyone to play with."

"Come on, Sweetspark." Steeljaw chuckled. "I'm sure that's not the only thing I can be bribed with. And for the record, Daniel, if you need to bribe Frenzy, he's worse than Tracks about a good wax."

"Cheaper to wax, too," Daniel observed, grinning.

"I'm still taller than you, squishy," Frenzy straightened up to his full height of just over six feet feet.

Daniel took a step back.

"But Daniel's a crack shot," Steeljaw said.

Daniel burst out laughing at the reminder of the first time he'd tangled with Frenzy, when he had been just a child. He'd shot first, and Frenzy had tried to kill him in retaliation. "Oh, Primus. I'm never going to live that down."

"Yeah, you scorched my plating good," Frenzy said, in mock irritation.

"Totally not apologizing for that." Daniel folded his arms across his chest.

"C'mon, Sweetspark," Steeljaw shoved Frenzy in the direction of the stairs with his nose. "This is going nowhere good, and we have work to do today."

Daniel's laughter followed them up the stairs. Steeljaw was pleased; he thought he'd succeeded in breaking the ice between the two of them - and Daniel, who was one of his best friends, and his new lover had lots of potential to be buddies. Frenzy needed a bigger circle of friends than just himself and Ratchet.

"Have fun, Mouser!" Daniel shouted, as they reached the first landing.

"Bite me, Danny boy," he shot back, to more laughter from the human. "You know I'll have fun."

"With Frenzzzzzy?" Daniel's teasing innuendo meant nothing.

"With your mom!" He didn't mean it the way it came out, though the way Frenzy's howl of laughter drowned out Daniel's indignant splutter they certainly thought he had. He started to apologize, frantically, to explain he had meant no innuendo.

"I'm going out with Bee," Daniel snapped, though there was amusement twinkling in his eyes. Steeljaw wanted to sink into the floor. Daniel, who had known him since he was an infant, certainly realized he hadn't meant it the way it had sounded. he wasn't sure if that made it worse or better. Frenzy was still cackling. "Before this any further downhill. Have fun with my mom, Steeljaw, and remember that I know where you sleep."

It was true he was looking forward to the technical challenge of modifying Soundwave's visor with Carly, but, as he climbed the second flight of stairs to the second level of the humans' quarters, he thought he would have enjoyed cleaning the wash rack waste tanks with Frenzy. The two of them just clicked. It didn't matter what they were doing, he simply liked Frenzy's company.

He glanced over at Frenzy. The symbiont flashed him an utterly incorrigible grin, poked him between two armor plates, then ran up the last couple of steps.

He was truly in love, he thought. Frenzy wasn't just his lover - the mech was turning into a friend.

* * *

Carly glanced up from her laptop for the umpteenth time that evening, marveling at the two mechs in her work room. Steeljaw was being himself: affable, polite, sensible, with a hefty dose of charisma and a sneaky sense of humor. Frenzy, however, was a real surprise. She thought she was seeing the real Frenzy for the first time, not the crazed symbiont she'd witnessed too many times in conflict with the Autobots.

The former 'con sat crosslegged on the floor, a datapad tucked between his legs. He had a schematic pulled up on it, and was modifying a circuit board with a delicate soldering iron and a box of tiny electronic parts. Some required tweezers to handle. She never would have guessed he was capable of that much sustained focus or patience, much less that he had the knowledge to modify hardware to such an extent.

"Frenzy, where did you learn engineering?" she asked, conversationally.

"Soundwave." He glanced up, and flashed her a brief smile. "M'brother and I were slaves - we belonged to his bonded. When she died, he bought our contracts. We didn't know slag until he trained us."

"He bought you?" She couldn't quite keep the horror from her voice.

His eyes flashed with a bit of irritation. "It wasn't like that. We ran away. He bought our contracts to keep them from hunting us down and killing us. He liked us. Penalty for being an escaped slave was death, if the master didn't want you back, and the family didn't. We weren't much more use than a couple of cleaning drones 'cuz we didn't know anything and we didn't have any useful upgrades. He freed us, woman. Then he took care of us for a long time before we agreed to bond with him. We could have left. Soundwave's never taken a symbiont who didn't want to be with him, who didn't chose him of their own free will. He's a great master."

"Um, sorry."

Steeljaw, sprawled on the floor next to Frenzy, sat up and put a front leg around Frenzy's shoulders. By the flickers of emotions across their faces, she knew they were comming each other. Steeljaw sighed. Frenzy briefly buried his face in Steeljaw's shoulder. Steeljaw stroked his back. Frenzy smiled faintly.

To her, Steeljaw said, "It's hard for him, Carly. He's lost everything and Soundwave's hurt so bad."

Frenzy gave her a wry smile. "Bet you didn't expect me to be so emo."

"Not really, no. You're not what I expected. I'm, umm, sorry for your losses."

She was surprised by his easy use of slang. While most Cybertronians spoke accent-less English, not all were truly fluent. Slang, and the finer nuances of general word usage, were more difficult for them to master. Then again, his master specialized in communications, and had clearly trained his servants well.

Frenzy shrugged. "That's war, I guess."

"Maybe it will be over soon."

Frenzy's answer surprised her. In what was an utterly normal, conversational tone of voice, he explained, "Megatron will fight until somebody takes him out. Any peace treaty he signs, he'd break later, when peace wasn't convenient for him any more. But I'm sure Prime knows that by now."

"I'm sure." She regarded him curiously for a moment. He looked relaxed again, and he was sitting close enough to Steeljaw that he casually reached out and stroked Steeljaw's shoulder.

The whole evening felt surreal. Frenzy was just so damn ordinary by Cybertronian standards. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but he certainly wasn't it.

Steeljaw snorted, "I think we all know that by now. Maybe, if we're lucky, Starscream will do the job for us."

She shivered. "And then we'd have Starscream to deal with."

"Nah." Frenzy didn't even seem to be aware that he was tracing circles with his thumb on Steeljaw's plating. The very casual way they touched each other made her wonder if there was more to their relationship than they were admitting. Steelie was touchy-feely, and was a master at gathering hugs from the most unlikely of mechs, but there was a connection between him and Frenzy that seemed to be a little more intimate than she'd expect.

Surely, she was imagining it. On the other hand, Steeljaw had confided in her more than once that he was lonely, but that he had no prospects for finding a partner on the Ark.

Frenzy poked distractedly at his data pad for a moment, then repeated, "Nah. Screamer'd end the war."

"You think?" Steeljaw said, with interest.

"I know. Starscream," Frenzy typed in a string of characters, "wants to rule. He wants power."

"And ending the war would give him that?" Carly said, skeptically. She didn't follow his logic.

Frenzy shot her an amused look, "Sure. Uh - Mouser, can you look at this?" Frenzy handed him the datapad and the circuit he was testing out. "I keep getting hardware errors and I'm stumped."

Steeljaw's frown indicated he didn't see an easy solution to the problem either. He started poking at the datapad while Frenzy explained to her, "Starscream's not stupid, and he's a survivor. He wants power, and adulation, and all that slag but he doesn't want to get dead trying to win it. He'd be more than willing to compromise with Prime, work out some sort of treaty that left him with power and rank - and he wouldn't be half bad as a leader, honestly. You can reason with Starscream, and he's more sane than you'd expect. Good boss, too - he looks out for his people. The reason Megatron hasn't taken him out is that Starscream's slagging effective at keeping the fliers in line."

Steeljaw said quietly, "He's not sadistic like Megatron, is he?"

"Oh, he's got a temper," Frenzy smirked. "And he's a perv. Believe me, he's pervy. But - no. He's not cruel. And he looks out for his friends."

"Were you his friend?" Carly asked, curiously.

"Hah? Me? No. Starscream and Soundwave aren't buddies. I'm Soundwave's symbiont. So, no, I'm not his friend."

"Did you want to be?"

"No, not really."

"Just wondering. You sounded like you admired him."

Frenzy snorted. "They're fraggers, the whole lot of them. This is my home now. I'm never going back to the 'cons, and there's none of 'em I'd miss."

"Ah." She suspected that there was an element of denial there. She didn't think anyone - human or Cybertronian - could spend eons with a team of other people and not get attached. His respect for Starscream made her wonder if he secretly liked the mech.

"They all thought I was a useless, stupid little symbiont with no more autonomy than a drone." He sounded bitter. "My enemies give me a lot more credit for brains than the 'cons ever did."

Or maybe not … maybe he really had no sympathy left for the other 'cons. His mouth was set in a hard line, jaw clenched. She decided, again, that he was angry and in denial. He missed them, at least some of them, and now he was living with the Autobots.

Steeljaw looked up from the datapad and said firmly, "I know you're a lot more than a drone, Sweetspark. And I am not your enemy."

"Don't call me that!" Frenzy protested, but it was a weak protest. "Don't!" He repeated, as Steeljaw subspaced the datapad and circuit board, then shifted his position so that he could make his hug tighter. Frenzy added, "And of course, you know I'm not a drone."

"Yeah." Steelie met Carly's gaze. Some of her growing suspicion about the nature of their relationship must have shown on her face because he gave her a rueful smile. "You know all the times you told me there's someone for everyone?"

She snorted a laugh at his tone. Then she said, "I take it that this is your somebody?" And gestured at Frenzy. "Congratulations. Frenzy, if you hurt him I'll turn you into an eight track."

Both of them seemed to relax. Steeljaw smiled, a little shyly. Frenzy grinned and shot back, "Rolling Stones?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "The Brady Bunch Greatest Hits."

Steeljaw observed, "Don't piss her off, Frenzy. She's evil."

"So I noticed." His ruby optics were bright with amusement.

"So, uh, how long have you two known each other?" It was the question she was dying to know the answer to, and this seemed like a good opportunity to ask.

"As other than enemies? Only since he arrived here." Steeljaw's tone turned wry. "And before you lecture me on that not being enough time to really know each other - we're aware of that."

That was news. She had assumed they'd known each other from before the war, or that Frenzy (and Soundwave) had been Autobot moles. Some of her concern must have been visible in her expression, because Frenzy said wistfully, "It's funny, but I feel like I've known him forever - and I wish I had."

"And the commanders know about this?" She asked, still feeling protective of Steeljaw. He was just such a good person.

"Yeah." Steeljaw grinned ruefully. "They know. Optimus has granted Frenzy and Soundwave amnesty, however, and we're not breaking any regs - not anymore, anyway. We're just sort've keeping it quiet - I don't mind people I trust knowing, but I just don't want to deal with slag."

The 'not anymore' clued her in about why Steeljaw, who never did anything worse than an occasional prank, had been scrubbing the floors and the wash racks every day before his regular shift.

Frenzy added, "We are keeping it quiet. I don't want Steeljaw to get in trouble on my account."

"I'm not worried about that, Sweetspark …"

The endearment, unsurprisingly to Carly, made Frenzy roll his optics.

"... but I think it will go smoother if people know you as you before we break their brains with us." Steeljaw traced a short finger down Frenzy's arm. "Right now, you're just a well-behaved 'con to a lot of Autobots, and a lot of people assume that you'll betray us sooner or later …"

"... which would be remarkably stupid of me! What would happen to Soundwave if I screwed up?"

"And you'd miss me too much," Steeljaw said, teasingly.

Frenzy shot him a look that seemed genuinely surprised.

"Oh, does that look mean that you wouldn't miss me?" Steelie grinned toothily.

Frenzy was silent, but the surprise appeared to be turning to disconcerted panic. He clearly didn't know how to react. Finally, somewhat snarkily, he snapped, "You think a lot of yourself, don't you?"

Carly winced on Steeljaw's behalf, but Steeljaw seemed unruffled. His optics briefly met Carly's before he turned his full attention to Steeljaw. He said softly to Frenzy, "It's hard to admit you care about someone when you're scared you'll lose them, isn't it?"

Oh. Steeljaw's words seeemed to strike home, because Frenzy shuttered his optics and sat very still for a moment. Steeljaw, ever patient, and infinitely understanding, had not taken Frenzy's reaction personally. She hoped Frenzy understood just what a special person his lover was, because she would reformat him if he hurt Steelie.

Frenzy finally huffed a sharp sigh. "Okay, okay. I'd miss you."

"Mmmhmm." Steeljaw nodded, rubbing his cheek against the side of Frenzy's head. "Carly, we've got a ton done tonight. I think it's time to call it quits. I bet we have the new visor done by tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're probably right." She suspected that Frenzy'd reached his limit of being social, and that Steeljaw knew it. The poor mech had really been through a lot …

She realized she was empathizing with Frenzy. It was a very surreal moment, to know she was worried about the emotional well being of a Decepticon who'd once tried to kill her son. She wasn't sure if she should feel guilty for that, or not.

Frenzy rose, and when she stood up too, he offered her his hand with a startling display of human-style courtesy. "Thank you, Mrs. Witwicky."

"For what?" His hand was delicately articulated, and when she grasped it, he exerted just the right amount of pressure to be firm without hurting her. He was, as he'd teasingly observed before, taller than her, but he was built on a human scale. Spike was taller, actually, by an inch or two. She could look him in the eyes and meet his gaze.

Once again, she was struck by how intelligent and normal he seemed.

"For …" his smile was wry, "... being nice."

"Oh, hell." She hugged him, recklessly disregarding the power and danger in his small frame. He might be disarmed, he might be only a few inches taller than she was, but he could rip her from limb to limb in a fraction of a second. He was solid, warmer than a human, heavier, and she felt him freeze in surprise. His armor moved, pressing flat to his frame. It felt alive His systems hummed louder. He was not happy about being hugged.

Well, he'd have to get used to it. She said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Frenzy."

He relaxed a bit, and briefly returned the hug. He wouldn't meet her eyes, staring instead at the floor, when she released him. "Umm. Thanks."

"C'mon, Frenzy. If you stick around, she'll be serving you milk and cookies and telling you bedtime stories next." Steeljaw nudged Frenzy towards the room's door with his nose.

She glared at him. "I know better than that." After pausing a beat, she added, "Rust sticks and sweet energon, anyway. As you well know. "

"I do, I do." Steeljaw was herding Frenzy towards the door. She heard him whisper in a conspiratorial tone to the little symbiont, "... she makes the best energon gummies."

* * *

"Do you want to come back to my quarters with me?" Steeljaw offered, sounding a little cautious, "My brothers are home. They're watching some action movie, with a superhero or something."

"Sounds like fun," Frenzy forced a bright smile to his face. He didn't really want to return to Ratchet's quarters; Soundwave was blocking him, but an odd mixture of confusion, desire, and grief was leaking through. He … couldn't face whatever was going on right now. Particularly since he suspected Ratchet was involved.

Steeljaw gave him a concerned look. :We could go … find someplace private, if you need some time to chill out. You've been trying awfully hard to put on a brave front, Sweetspark. It's okay if you've had enough for now. I get it.:

He … should have been irritated by that. Had those words come from anyone else, he would have reacted with defensive anger. Steeljaw was different, somehow, and suddenly, he knew he didn't ever want to let Steeljaw go. It was terrifying, to want someone so very badly. He couldn't picture a future without Steeljaw in it.

He hadn't been able to picture a future without his siblings, either. And now they were gone.

The thought that he could lose Steeljaw the same way terrified him.

:Frenzy?:

:Gonna keep trying hard,: he informed Steeljaw, words a bit terse.

:Glad to hear that.:

:I think … just you and me …: He let out a shuddering sigh. :Your brothers are cool, but …:

:They're a bit overwhelming. I know.: Steeljaw's expression was rueful. Then his optics held a distant look for a couple seconds, and Frenzy detected an encrypted comm from him, sent to someone else. To Steeljaw, he added, :Believe me, I know. C'mon, Prowl just cleared it if you want to go outside with me for a bit.:

* * *

Frenzy leaned back against Steeljaw's side, feeling the warmth and low hum of his lover's systems behind him. Steeljaw was silent, head silhouetted against the starry sky. Silent, calm, and so very steady.

Somewhere, a cricket chirped. They'd walked far enough away from the entrance to the Ark that they couldn't hear the footsteps of the guards or the hum of the Ark's power system. Light from the spotlights around the ship shone over a ridge between the ship and their location, and illuminated the hillside above their heads, but they were in the shadows.

Silverbolt launched into the air, a graceful, large, silhouette. Frenzy clicked his vision over to infrared briefly to verify the identity. Against the cold sky, the jet glowed white. He accelerated, broke the sound barrier with a rumbling boom, and then disappeared over the horizon.

Steeljaw, who was apparently monitoring comm channels, said, "Bolt's going to pick some parts up for Ratchet. We've got a lab that does some machine work for us."

"Should you be telling me things like that?" Technically, that qualified as intelligence. He didn't want Steeljaw to get in trouble because Steeljaw had forgotten who - and what - Frenzy was. He wasn't exactly sure what 'asylum' meant but he was pretty sure that it could be changed back to 'prisoner' in a hurry.

The feline symbiont sighed. "With about two seconds of work, you could decrypt the chatter and figure his mission out. It's not classified. The location and identity of the lab is, for obvious reasons."

Frenzy snorted. "Sanosuke Enterprises."

"Slag." Steeljaw tensed in dismay. "You are not supposed to know that."

"Soundwave's very good at decrypting communications." The smile on Frenzy's face slipped away. He corrected himself, "Was."

"Frag, frag. We need to warn them, send guards …" Steeljaw half rose off the ground.

"Oh, chill, Mouser. Megs and Screamer don't know. Soundwave's got a head full of intelligence he never shared. It was to his strategic benefit to keep secrets until they were needed. Screamer couldn't keep his mouth shut - I couldn't count the number of times he blabbed something to the wrong mech, and it ruined a nasty surprise for you guys. Megatron was so fragging impulsive that he'd jump the gun and make tactically stupid plans." Frenzy huffed and then threw a rock down the hillside. "If my master had been in charge, the war would have been decisively over a long time ago."

"I've heard Jazz compare Megatron to a bull, in the earth sport of bull fighting. If he sees a target, he'll charge it, without a good plan of attack," Steeljaw commented.

"What did he compare Starscream to?"

"A rooster."

Frenzy snickered. "I hid in a barn once, on a mission. There was a rooster. It saw its reflection in my leg and kept attacking it. Then it humped my foot. Apt. Oh, so apt."

"That's Jazz for you." Steeljaw shifted, stretching out to his full length on the sandy hillside. He seemed relaxed, with his plating flared open to the cool night breeze and his fans silent. "Frenzy, how are you doing? Really?"

He blinked, hearing the invitation in that question. It would be oh-so-easy to deny he hurt, to tell Steeljaw everything was fine, and to put on a brave front. To admit to his feelings was to admit to weakness. However, Steeljaw was offering to listen.

"I'm scared," he said, in what felt like a startlingly normal voice. He leaned back against Steeljaw's warm bulk, and stared up at the starry sky. "And I miss my siblings, and it's crazy, but I miss Soundwave even though he's still alive and everything. And I think of the future, and it seems like I'll never hurt less."

Steeljaw's azure blue eyes closed briefly in the darkness. "You never stop missing them. That pain will always be there. But you can fill your life with other good things, with people, who will make life worth living. It's what I had to do, when I decided I wanted to really live. I … lost everything when my first master died. I had to make a life I could enjoy and be happy with."

Frenzy said wryly, "Sounds hard."

"And scary," Steeljaw acknowledged. "What scares you, Sweetspark?"

"Too much." He drew his knees to his chest. For once, he didn't object to the hated endearment. For once, it didn't sound teasing. "I'm afraid I'll offend someone. I'm afraid someone will attack me - or worse, Soundwave - because they bear a grudge. I'm half afraid to look 'em in the eyes, because half the Autobots hate me and I know I'll see that. I'm afraid this won't last - this sanctuary here. I'm afraid you won't last …"

Steeljaw made a soft noise of protest at that. He was so scared of losing Steeljaw that he rambled on in a rapid change of subject, unable to really think about it.

"... I'm afraid I'm betraying the Decepticons and it's a sick feeling. There are mechs I sorta-kinda like, and who liked me. I swore an oath to Megatron, Steeljaw. I've broken that oath."

"He tried to kill you!" Steeljaw's armor clamped flat in a strong emotional response to Frenzy's confession.

"I know. But Soundwave always taught us our word mattered." Frenzy rocked back and forth. "You know, I said that I didn't have friends among the 'cons, and maybe that's true and maybe that's not. I dunno. There's mechs who've saved my life. I've saved theirs. And some of 'em I really liked. Skywarp and I used to pull the best pranks … "

Steeljaw nodded. "You feel like you're betraying them. That's a valid feeling, Sweetspark. In a way, you are, but if you look at the big picture, you are doing the right thing."

"I don't know. I don't know. I think Optimus's way is better. But I'm scared I'm doing the wrong thing by hanging out with Autobots." He shook his head. "Soundwave said not to trust you guys, then he goes and frags Ratchet. I don't know what to think about that. I think he's as confused as I am, and I don't …"

"He what?" Steeljaw's voice hit a high note that Frenzy had never heard from the symbiont before.

"Said not to trust you."

"And he what with who?"

"Fragged Ratchet." Frenzy glanced over at him, meeting that normally steady blue gaze. Steeljaw looked shocked. "Umm, Prime knows. Nobody else. Don't tell anyone."

"I won't. Who would believe me?" Steeljaw laughed. "Wooh. Do you know how many mechs have tried to get inside Ratchet's plating? I'm not sure what's more surprising, that anyone managed to seduce him, or that it was Soundwave."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I love Soundwave, but I don't see what Ratchet sees in him."

Steeljaw lifted his head up and fixed Frenzy with a keen gaze. "Obviously, something."

"I know, but they can't talk." Frenzy wrapped his arms around his legs.

Steelie huffed a sigh out. "I was referring to his personality, Frenzy, and the fact that he's a former 'con. I don't have an issue with your master, but you've got to admit he's a mismatch with Ratchet."

"Oh. That." Frenzy shrugged. "You're right. He is. I don't get it."

"Ratchet's a good mech," Steeljaw said, after a moment. Then he nuzzled Frenzy's shoulder again and said, "It's quiet out here. I like to come out here to be alone - this is the first time I've ever invited anyone along when I needed to get away from the base."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say to that.

"Frenzy, do you think we're moving too fast?" Steeljaw's tone was hesitant. "I don't … I don't want you to feel pressured, or trapped."

Alarm thrilled through him. The last thing he wanted to do with Steeljaw was to move slower. "I'm fine. How do you feel?"

"I don't know."

Frenzy huffed, "I swear to Primus I'd be pushing you to merge with me if - if it wouldn't get you in too slagging much trouble."

Steeljaw froze behind him, suddenly stiff and still. "I've never done that with anyone. Well, except to bond with my family, but that's different."

"Scared about what I'd see, Mouser?" He couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice. It was defensive. Steeljaw's reaction to his heedless words had alarmed him.

Dryly, Steeljaw observed, "The difference between a symbiont and most spark virgins is experience with the perceptions of others. My bondmates have already made it clear that I'm a good person. If you decide I suck, that'd be your problem."

"So it wouldn't hurt if I hated you?" He shot back.

"It would hurt." Steeljaw's response was completely calm. "Are you afraid you'd disappoint me?"

"Slag you."

"It was an honest question, Sweetspark." Steeljaw sounded almost amused. "Are you?"

"No." He couldn't keep the sullen note out of his voice, and he tried to tell himself it wasn't a lie. Arguing with Steeljaw was nearly impossible, simply because it took two people to fight. Lying to him wasn't easy either, as it turned out.

"Frenzy," Steeljaw's voice was softer, but still steady. "How much do you trust me?"

"A lot ... yes," he admitted, resting his head on his knees.

"Mm." Steeljaw lay back down on his side. "Worrying about that first merge, and our reactions to it, is a valid fear, Sweetspark. Here, lean against me."

Slowly, he reclined again, feeling the hum of Steeljaw's systems. He'd expected to be reassured, and soothed. Instead, Steeljaw had simply validated his fear.

"Optimus told me once that real courage is not a lack of fear, it is the ability to take action despite true fear." Steeljaw smiled faintly. "By those standards, you are incredibly brave, Sweetspark."

"Don't call me that." It was a weak protest.

"Sweetspark."

"Stop!"

"Sweetspark."

He twisted around and tackled Steeljaw. He tried to turn it into a wrestling match, but Steeljaw simply rolled over onto his side and wrapped Frenzy up in a hug. For a moment he resisted, trying to push away, but Steeljaw's steady, calm embrace was seductively inviting.

After a minute, Frenzy relaxed against Steeljaw's plating, shuttered his optics, and resolved to never, ever, let him go.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Rewiring an electrical harness for a dermal sensory array was finicky work. Soundwave had been pleased when Ratchet had given him the task, and even happier to discover he had learned enough words to understand Ratchet's instructions.

For reasons that Soundwave didn't understand, the medic had been devoting large amounts of time to building his vocabulary. Ratchet was patient and insistent. He tutored Soundwave relentlessly, before their shifts, on breaks, and for hours every evening. Ratchet's motivations were a mystery to Soundwave, but he was desperate to learn and more than grateful for the time.

Both to his confusion and his pleasure, the extensive time spent with Ratchet was truly enjoyable. He had always been a solitary mech, and even when bonded with Fairwinds he'd needed time alone. Only his symbionts had never grated on his moods. However, he'd yet to find Ratchet's company tiring. The medic's snark and sarcasm meshed well with Soundwave's own darkly dry sense of humor.

He had been surprised to realize that others were afraid of Ratchet, or angered by his displays of blustery temper. Perhaps half a lifetime in Megatron's shadow had given him thicker plating, but he found Ratchet's attitude simply _honest_. If Ratchet was unhappy with you, he would tell you. You always knew exactly where you stood with him.

The more Soundwave 'talked' to Ratchet, the more he genuinely liked him. The medic was never condescending, and was startlingly intelligent. Soundwave found himself laughing more with Ratchet than he had in years. The medic teased him about having the scariest laugh in the universe, and Soundwave sensed the affection in those words. It had been a long, long, time since anyone had teased him playfully, other than his symbionts.

Ratchet had also put him to _work _on complicated and detailed assignments like this sensor repair. He explained he had enlisted soldiers to scrub and clean. He needed Soundwave to do _skilled _work. The realization that he was truly and genuinely needed had been heartening. It meant that he would not need to simply rely on their good will and charity for his future. Anyone could sweep a floor; few had his knowledge and skills and the Autobots had a shortage of trained techs.

Soundwave had been delicately soldering tiny wires into place for nearly an hour, following a schematic with English labels. One of the soldiers had taken thermal damage to one leg that was strut deep, and every one of hundreds of hair fine sensor wires had melted. He wasn't familiar with this mech's particular design - there weren't many noble-born Towers models in the Decepticon army - but the plans were easy enough to follow. Much of it was intuitive; there were only so many ways you could wire an electrical circuit, and some components had been standardized for millions of years.

He was completely absorbed in his work when Ratchet approached, and he looked up a tad reluctantly. Ratchet was his chosen master, and he liked the mech more and more, but he truly did not want to stop.

The medic set a cube of energon down next to him, and then printed on a datapad, "Soundwave, take a break."

He dutifully consumed the energon, then surveyed his work on the sedated mech. Reluctant to stop, he tried to postpone the suggested break by printing, "Soundwave want fifteen …" And he sketched a picture of the clock on the wall as it looked now, and with fifteen minutes gone by. That should get him enough time to finish.

Ratchet tilted his head sideways for a moment, then took a few minutes to give him the words _minute, hour, second, day, _and _clock_.

Soundwave printed, "Thank you. Soundwave want fifteen minutes."

Ratchet printed, "Soundwave take a break. Order. First Aid will finish here."

"Soundwave agree," he wrote, albeit reluctantly. He rose from his stool, and the medic grinned, then bodily shoved him in the direction of his office with a palm in the small of his back.

Behind his mask he couldn't help but smile despite his irritation at the interruption. Ratchet was in a good mood. He was _desirable _when he was in a mood like this. He wanted to see that grin turned in his direction as often as possible, and he was willing to admit to himself that Ratchet's laughter made his circuits hum with interest.

Somewhat to his disappointment Ratchet hadn't 'faced with him again, but the mech had been been _caring_. At night, Ratchet politely turned down any advances that Soundwave made, though he generally did so with a gruff hug and perhaps a lingering caress. Soundwave found this frustrating; surely, the mech had needs!

Ratchet had also installed a second, fold-down berth in the bedroom of his suite, and made a point of recharging on it, rather than sharing a berth with Soundwave. However, he occasionally woke to find the medic _watching _him, blue optics half lit, expression thoughtful. He wished he knew what Ratchet was thinking about.

Now, Ratchet guided him towards his office with a hand on his back. Wheeljack said something to Ratchet as they passed. Ratchet responded with an upraised finger without missing a stride.

The engineer was certainly teasing Ratchet. Soundwave wondered what the context was. Did it pertain to him, or to something entirely unrelated? He assumed his relationship with Ratchet would be a secret; surely, Ratchet would not want the others to know that he had ever made love to a former Decepticon.

Ratchet's hand was warm on the small of his back. The medic seemed to be unafraid to show him affection, even in public. Though he hadn't interfaced with him again, Ratchet frequently rested a hand on his arm as they talked, or guided him with a hand on his back. Ratchet was quick to smile at him, and just as quick to whack him playfully upside the head.

Perhaps he'd misread the knowledge the others had of their relationship, assuming it to be a secret when it was not. Perhaps the others knew. Perhaps Wheeljack had made some sort of innuendo. He had no way of knowing, and that left him uncertain and wary.

The medic's office held Frenzy, Steeljaw, and Carly. Steeljaw lounged on the desk, somehow occupying more space than should have been possible given his actual mass. Frenzy sat crosslegged beside him, hip only inches from Steeljaw's powerful shoulder. As he watched, Steeljaw stretched out even more, lowering his head to rest in Frenzy's lap. Frenzy stroked Steeljaw's head and met Soundwave's gaze with his jaw set and his eyes worried. The bond was wide open between Soundwave and his symbiont, and Soundwave could feel every bit of stubborn defiance, fear, worry, and the very real and very fierce affection that Frenzy had for the other cassette.

Steeljaw looked too cool and collected. Soundwave wondered if his demeanor was an act, or if the mech really was that naturally calm. If so, he wondered, would Steeljaw be a good match for Frenzy, whose name was well earned? Frenzy wasn't quite as excitable as he'd been as a youngling, but he certainly had his emotional moments.

Perhaps it was a _good _match, each countering the other.

He was still not used to seeing Frenzy with a lover, still not sure if he approved, and still tempted to intervene with force. Frenzy was _his_, and his desire to see Frenzy happy warred with his possessive and protective instincts. Therefore, it took him a moment to notice what was lying on the desk between the human engineer and the two cassettes - his attention was diverted. It looked like a visor - his visor - but it was shiny with newness, and all of them kept glancing at it. And grinning. Frenzy was now bubbling with anticipation.

Ratchet produced a datapad from his subspace and wrote, "This is a visor with upgrades for you."

Part of him rebelled at that idea. He didn't like change, and he didn't like losing control, and they'd obviously designed a new version of his visor without his input, permission, or even his knowledge. Part of him was intrigued. Part of him was apprehensive. His visor - and his faceplate - had been part of him since the aftermath of Fairwind's death, when he had found it both so hard and so very necessary to conceal his feelings. He didn't like the idea of changes that _he _hadn't designed.

On the other hand, Frenzy was excited. He suspected Frenzy had been involved, along with the others. It would be impolite not to at least see what they had made for him.

Something of his mixed feelings must have shown in his posture, or perhaps Ratchet just guessed. The medic put a reassuring hand on his arm, showing a gentle kindness he never displayed to most of the crew. Then Ratchet picked the new visor up, and offered it to Soundwave for his inspection.

The medic reached up. Soundwave didn't even feel the need to flinch as Ratchet's nimble, sensitive fingers removed his current visor. He _trusted _Ratchet, clear down to the core of his spark. His apprehension vanished.

Ratchet handed the visor to Frenzy, then clicked the new one into place. The medic's fingers lingered briefly against Soundwave's temples, and he was smiling. The visor took a moment to boot up. The HUD flickered to life, displaying readouts that were now in English: the time, his fuel status, his core temperature, and a link that read _Internet_ and showed five bars of signal. Apparently, they'd given him access to the world wide web via his visor … though he also assumed his access was limited, and monitored. Still, it would give him a vast source of sample data to analyze. Once he had some basic vocabulary down, he could learn far more, very rapidly, online.

Ratchet said something, and words in English scrolled down the display. "Soundwave, #### understand me?"

He only got about half the words - his name, 'understand' and 'me.' It was enough to extrapolate a meaning, and he nodded sharply and reached for a datapad to answer. Ratchet caught his wrist, stopping him. The medic turned his hand palm upwards, and attached a control button to his finger with a magnet. He could depress the button with his thumb. As soon as he pushed the button, an alphabet - the components of English words - appeared in his HUD. He couldn't match the letters to sounds, but he could certainly use them to construct words.

It took him a minute of experimenting to determine that all he needed to do was look at the letters and blink to select them. When he lifted his finger off the button, a speaker on the visor spoke in what sounded remarkably like his own mask-modulated monotone voice. He'd constructed the sentence, "Soundwave test visor."

All he heard was static as his damage prevented him from processing the sound even when he generated it. However, it had clearly worked as intended. Frenzy whooped and made a high five with Carly. Steeljaw danced around them, entire body wiggling in excitement. Then they all turned back to him, and all started talking at once.

He could only understand about one word in ten that scrolled across his screen, if that. He did learn that each person was assigned a slightly different color of text. He had no idea what they were babbling about, however, and he quickly put together another sentence, "Soundwave words few."

Ratchet put a hand on the small of his back. "I ### teach you ###," the medic promised him, fingers rubbing his plating.

He understood enough of that to get the meaning, and he had enough words to respond to all of them with gratitude, "Soundwave thanks you."

Carly laughed, and said, "Ratchet #### give you _better_ orders."

He understood most of that, but he didn't understand what _better _meant, along with several other words. When he stared at that word, trying to figure it out, a number of other words abruptly popped up in a window: _good, best, nice … _and a dozen more. He recognized enough related words to understand what he was seeing.

A bit more testing showed him this was a very useful feature. The visor had a built-in thesaurus.

He composed the sentence, "Soundwave need understand Ratchet orders. Ratchet scary angry. Soundwave prefer Ratchet happy."

Ratchet's chuckle was a tremendous reward for his effort. So was Frenzy's ironically wordless whoop of enthusiasm. Carly advised him, "Soundwave, you are a very smart mech."

"Soundwave agree Soundwave smart."

All of them laughed this time. Behind his mask, he smiled. He could tell this would work, and work _well_. He would be able to speak again. He had been so frightened that he would never be able to talk, and they had given him language back.

He couldn't think about his feelings. He would come undone, if he did. He did not want to lose control in front of so many witnesses. Bad enough that Ratchet had seen him cry once. He squared his shoulders and stiffened his back strut and composed a sentence. "Soundwave: thanks Steeljaw, Carly, Frenzy, Ratchet."

He couldn't understand most of their responses, but four grins, Ratchet's clap on his back, and Frenzy's suddenly impulsive hug were all he really needed by way of answer.

It was clear that Soundwave would work himself to exhaustion if allowed. Ratchet suspected that there were some troublesome psychological reasons for that, including a desire to avoid thinking about his losses and uncertainty about his position among the Autobots. Therefore, he'd made a point of ending Soundwave's work day at the same hour each day, and ignoring the mech's protests.

After being given the new visor, Soundwave had returned to work faster than he had expected. Frenzy had explained that Soundwave felt overwhelmed and needed some time to himself. Ratchet had therefore left him alone, respecting Soundwave's mood.

Frenzy sat silently with Soundwave for several hours, working side by side with him on projects. Ratchet had kept a close eye on Soundwave and Frenzy, watching for either medical issues or emotional reactions. However, there were no heartfelt moments between the pair. He'd caught Soundwave asking Frenzy a work-related question only once; Frenzy had replied with simple sentences, and the two had traded a look. Frenzy had smiled. Soundwave's posture had relaxed, just a little. Without further comment, the two of them had returned to their separate tasks.

Now, however, it was quitting time, and, while Frenzy had left moments earlier with Steeljaw and Eject, Soundwave showed no signs of stopping his current project. He was checking the integrity of the welds on a newly built, spare, femoral strut with an x-ray machine.

"It's the end of your shift," Ratchet said, snapping the machine off.

It took Soundwave a moment to answer. Eventually, the visor could be programmed with a built-in library of hundreds of phrases that he could also chose from. They'd disabled both functions for now, not wanting to confuse Soundwave with too many options. Soundwave finally said, "Soundwave, finish now."

"Nope." He caught Soundwave's wrist as the mech reached for the on/off button on the machine. "Finish tomorrow."

"Query: Nope?"

Soundwave's vocabulary was expanding by leaps and bounds, and he made a point of questioning words he didn't understand.

"Nope means 'no.' It's slang. C'mon, big guy. Your work will still be there tomorrow."

That earned him what was probably a glare from behind Soundwave's visor. He caught a sharp flicker of light, aimed directly at him.

"That's an order, Soundwave." Ratchet handed the taller mech his cane. "Shift's over. Get out of here."

"Soundwave, desires destination Ratchet order?" The words had absolutely no emotional inflection. Soundwave hadn't exactly been expressive before the accident, however, so they'd put a low priority on inflection in his words. Ratchet was discovering this made Soundwave's intent hard to understand.

"Where do you want to go?" He rested a hand casually on Soundwave's arm. "Home or the rec room?"

"Query: Home?"

It took him a minute to define the word, 'Home.'

"Ratchet's quarters: Home?" Soundwave then asked. That was definitely a question. He could see the uncertainty in Soundwave's stance.

"Come." This time, it wasn't an order. He guided Soundwave towards the door. "We'll talk."

"Soundwave pleased, talk."

"I'll bet." He elbowed the mech teasingly, just hard enough to make him catch himself with the cane. The tip rang loudly against the metal decking in the hall. "Ratchet pleased with Soundwave's talking too."

However, inside his quarters, Soundwave's demeanor abruptly changed as soon as the door slid shut. The mech fixed Ratchet with an intent stare, expression unreadable. "Soundwave, confused. Soundwave, have questions."

"And Ratchet has all the answers, of course." Ratchet started to guide Soundwave to the couch. Soundwave balked, and Ratchet said impatiently, "Oh, sit down."

Soundwave sat, posture stiff. Ratchet pulled a chair up so he could sit facing him, and studied the mech for a moment. Soundwave was inscrutable which, Ratchet had learned, meant he was ill at ease.

"Soundwave," Ratchet said, after a moment of mutually wary regard, "You have a home here."

He was uneasy too, and couldn't even define why.

"With Ratchet? With Autobots?"

"Both." He leaned back into his chair, trying to relax. "With me, here, my quarters. With the Autobots as a whole."

"Query: Confirm meaning."

Smart mech that he was, Soundwave wasn't trusting his comprehension of the words. English was full of double meanings, synonyms, and homonyms. It would be very easy for him to misunderstand a statement. He had to know this was an important discussion, and he would insist on understanding all the nuances.

Ratchet summoned his patience, and said, "Soundwave, stay with Ratchet."

"Soundware, query, time, amount?"

"New word: Duration." He defined it for Soundwave, until he was sure Soundwave understood. "Does Soundwave desire to stay for a long duration of time?"

"Query, correct word use, long or big for duration of time?"

"Long," he said. "Humans see time as linear." He defined 'linear.'

"Incorrect," Soundwave observed, of that explanation.

"I know, but work with me here." Ratchet patted his hand. "Do you desire to stay with me?"

"Soundwave desires, yes. Work with Ratchet. Stay with Ratchet." The faint glint of those red optics was visible through the mirrored glass of his visor. After a moment, Soundwave averted his gaze.

"Then you - and Frenzy - can stay. You are welcome, and we will make it official that we are sharing quarters."

He doubted that the rumor mill would remain quiet about that, and he tried not to care.

"Reason desired." Soundwave's posture was very tense. Something about Ratchet's words had intensified his concern.

"I need a butler." It was a flippant, snarky response. He wasn't quite ready to talk about what he really hoped for from Soundwave. He wasn't sure he could handle being rebuffed.

"Query: Butler?"

"Nevermind. I am teasing you."

Much to his surprise, however, Soundwave replied, "Definition, found. Soundwave equal Alfred Pennyworth. Suggested role acceptable."

_He _had to run a quick Google search to get the reference. Then he laughed aloud, "Primus, I forgot who programmed your visor!"

"Frenzy, enjoy comics." Soundwave agreed. His tension had evaporated.

"And does Soundwave like comics?"

"Soundwave, Communications Specialist. Human comics inferior. Soundwave study for informational purposes."

Ratchet eyed Soundwave for a moment, wondering if that was the truth. "If you're Alfred, does that make me Batman?"

"Suggest reformat Batmobile. Soundwave unable comply request reformat Batman."

He laughed, harder than he'd laughed in a long, long time. He'd known Soundwave had a sense of humor, but it was still a surprise when he came up with a crack like that. Soundwave had probably subtly misinterpreted his question as a joking request that Soundwave _make _Ratchet into Batman, but it still damned funny. Finally, when he'd recovered, and with his vocalizer still stuttering with surpressed laughter, he shook his head and said, "I wouldn't look good in black."

Soundwave chuckled, open and relaxed, and leaned back against the couch. "Ratchet colors pleasing now."

"_I _think so too. Would you like some high grade?" Ratchet offered, rising. He could use a drink.

Soundwave caught his wrist. "Soundwave, desire Ratchet sit down."

The taller mech tugged, making his meaning clear. Ratchet sat somewhat heavily down next to him, with a little bit of reluctance. He really did want that drink. Before he could get back up, however, Soundwave put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. "Ratchet, sit."

"I'm sitting, I'm sitting." He leaned into Soundwave's warmth and power. He could hear the steady humm of Soundwave's systems, and the heat of his spark through his plating. Soundwave's hand ghosted over his plating, leaving a trail of activated sensors behind. "Primus, Soundwave."

Soundwave lifted Ratchet's hand to his mouth and kissed the fingers. "Ratchet, desirable. Soundwave, desire stay Ratchet home. Desire Ratchet, interface."

"We were enemies," Ratchet murmured, tracing the Decepticon sigil that was still painted on Soundwave's chest.

"Enemies, yes, Autobots did this." Soundwave cupped a hand over Ratchet's fingers. "Soundwave … not angry. Soundwave, fair target. Grieve …" he made a helpless gesture with his hand. "Rumble, Ratbat, Ravage, Buzzsaw, Laserbeak …"

"Your symbionts."

"Yes." Soundwave acknowledged. "Soundwave grieve symbionts. Not angry at Autobots."

"I would be. In your tracks."

"Anger, useless."

"Wish some of the slaggers on both sides understood that." And sometimes anger was the only thing that kept him going, but he didn't mention that. Soundwave's motivations were different than his.

"Query: Slagger?"

_That _led to a discussion about profanity, and Ratchet was surprised into laughter again when Soundwave finally observed, "Soundwave, often want say 'slag' and 'frag' duration of time damaged until today. Only think, not say. Not satisfactory. Prefer _say_. Necessary words when this slagged up."

He found himself openly and honestly amused. He was pretty sure behind that mask, Soundwave was grinning.

"Trouble, others, Soundwave interface Ratchet?" It was hard to tell with the monotone words of the speech program, but he thought Soundwave was anxious now. His armor had flattened out a little. Perhaps his earlier joking had been the equivalent of nervous laughter.

He snorted. "We're both old enough to tell 'em to go frag themselves if they have a problem with us. Optimus knows about us. I don't give a damn about the rest."

"Frag themselves … equivalent of self-stimulation?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He ran a hand over his face. "Don't ask me to define the logic behind that insult. I can't."

"'Frag themselves' - others attracted to you, me, and we suggest self-service?"

Ratchet snorted. "I am hardly attractive to many mechs, Soundwave. I'm old and cranky, and I've got more scrapes than paint most of the time. It's just an insult, a way to say shove off. Nevermind."

"Ratchet attractive." Soundwave's fingers traced along his jaw. "Ratchet strong, brave, honorable, powerful. Ratchet, attractive."

"Huh. Powerful?"

Soundwave dipped his head in a brief nod.

"Why am I not surprised you've got a power kink? - You're attracted to powerful mechs?"

"Soundwave, carrier. Power, status, important. Attractive."

Personally, he thought that was true for most mechs - and humans, and most species in general. Soundwave was honest about his attraction to power, perhaps because his culture places so much emphasis on rank and hierarchy.

"Power alone, not attractive," Soundwave then surprised him by saying, "More needed for Soundwave to like. Ratchet lots power, but not … bad … with it. Incorrect word. Meaning understood?"

"You like me because I'm strong but not evil, huh?" He smiled. "I think that's a compliment."

"Yes." Soundwave hesitate, then said, "Ratchet, care. Important. Power alone, not enough. Ratchet kind. Important. Kind to Frenzy."

"Frenzy's a good kid."

"Yes." Soundwave blew out a long, slow sigh. "Query: Terminal crash possible?"

He didn't really want to answer that question, though when he stiffened in his position resting against Soundwave's chassis, he suspected he'd given Soundwave all the answer he needed. He didn't think it was a coincidence that Soundwave had asked about his future immediately after he'd mentioned Frenzy.

The thought that Soundwave might die haunted Ratchet, and not just because he'd lose Soundwave. _Primus_, he wanted that drink.

There were two lives at stake - Frenzy's fate was tied to his master's, and Ratchet deeply feared that there was nothing any of them could do to keep Frenzy from following Soundwave if he passed away. Soundwave's last crash had caused some additional hardware damage to critical areas. He had routed around the problems with software patches, but he didn't think he could bring Soundwave back if another crash did more damage.

"Not likely. I do good work. Are you questioning my competence?" He said this with his usual smirk, a bedside manner he'd perfected long ago to reassure his patients.

"Ratchet good medic. Damage severe," Soundwave replied slowly, a pause every few words. "Ratchet, worry. Ratchet, insist monitors use."

"It could happen, Soundwave." Downplaying the risk clearly was not going to work. Soundwave was smart enough to understand the reality of his damage. He caught Soundwave's hand in his. "Soundwave, you could have another failure. That _is _why I monitor you. If you do, I will do everything in my power to bring you back - and you know I'm damn good - but you could die."

"Thank you," Soundwave repeated. He wrapped his arms around Ratchet's shoulders, and his earlier joking demeanor abruptly vanished. He buried his face in the crook of Ratchet's neck and held on to him tightly. "Soundwave, want to live. Frenzy, need Soundwave. Soundwave want to be _good_. Not lose Frenzy. Blaster good mech. Frenzy leave Soundwave for Blaster, Soundwave not sufficient good. Ratchet, help Soundwave.."

"Oh, slag. Is that worrying you?" He reached up and cupped a hand behind Soundwave's head. He whispered, "Frenzy is _not _going to leave you. The little slagger loves you beyond all reason, Soundwave. I can tell …"

"Frenzy, love Steeljaw. Steeljaw, belong Blaster. Blaster, better mech." Soundwave's voice was toneless, but his body was tense to the point of tremors.

"Blaster _not _better," he insisted.

"Not damaged. Higher status."

"Bullshit." He borrowed the human term - one of several he'd just defined for Soundwave. "Frenzy doesn't care about that. He'd _die _for you, Soundwave. And anyway, he doesn't need a big, strong, high-ranking mech to protect him as long as he's here. The grunts can be a bit rough at times, but he's my helper, and anyone who hassles him is gonna get hassled by _me_."

He was genuinely surprised that Soundwave feared losing Frenzy. How shattered the mech was, he thought, to not even have faith in his bonded team mate.

He said softly, reassuringly, "We will take care of you. You are not going to lose Frenzy. You're going to be fine. You just have to trust me, okay?"

Soundwave made a small sound from his vocalizer that might have been a muffled sob. He was frozen, joints locked tight except for small quivers that ran through his frame.

"It's okay, Soundwave. It will be okay." Soundwave sighed faintly, relaxing just a little as he understood the words, and Ratchet continued, "You can trust me. It will be okay. I promise. You're not going to lose Frenzy. You're going to be my assistant, and I know you're going to do a good job, and you will earn your place here."

Soundwave took in a deep, shuddering breath ventilation, then nodded into Ratchet's chest plating. Then he repeated the words, "Soundwave trust. Soundwave trust. Soundwave trust."

"Shhh. I know you do."

"Soundwave … _want_." Soundwave's visor met his gaze. "Soundwave _want _Ratchet. Soundwave damaged. Ratchet find others, better others."

It was a confession that rocked him to his core, uttered as it was by a proud, brave, skilled mech like Soundwave.

"Shh, stop that." Ratchet gave him a little shake. "Look at me, Soundwave."

The mech, who should have been so very proud, lifted his head from Ratchet and regarded him shakily. Ratchet said, very clearly, "I would have you as my lover and my friend."

"Friend," Soundwave repeated. "Query: Lover?"

"If _you _want it. If … we work out." Ratchet cupped a hand to the side of the tall mech's mask. He let his own uncertainty show on his face. "I am your friend. I will not stop being you friend. I do not ask more of …"

Soundwave clicked his mask back, baring his mouth. "Friend. Soundwave has no friends."

"You've got one now, whether you like it or not."

"Soundwave like." Long, nimble fingers explored the planes of Ratchet's face. "Afraid Ratchet … dislike interface Soundwave."

He stroked Soundwave's back and rocked back and forth a little bit. "I didn't want to make love to you again until you could tell me what _you _wanted, Soundwave."

Soundwave was silent for a moment, and he thought he'd have to explain that sentence. It seemed Soundwave got it, however, because the mech said, "Soundwave _want_."

"I'll be lucky if I don't go to the Pit for a chat with Unicron when I pass on for this, but I want you too."

Soundwave gave Ratchet's shoulder a small, protesting push. "Soundwave disagree. not Pit Ratchet.

"Heh. Good to know."

"Unicron, scared Ratchet." Soundwave's laugh rumbled through his frame.

"Soundwave, thanks."

Soundwave replied, with a more serious demeanor, "Ratchet earned Soundwave trust. Soundwave want Ratchet trust. Soundwave, loyal to Ratchet. Promise made, duration of time now to time ending."

"Never took you for a romantic," Ratchet snorted. He suspected the phrasing had more to do with Soundwave making do with a limited vocabulary versus any poetic talent. Soundwave had been notably acerbic even _before _his accident!

"Define meaning?"

"Nevermind. Later." He smiled. "So you say I can trust you?"

"Soundwave earn Ratchet trust. Soundwave enemy, duration of time weeks ago. Too soon for Ratchet trust. Soundwave _earn_."

He traced a finger over the seam in Soundwave's chest plates, right over the spark. "Not too soon, Soundwave. It's not too soon." He'd sensed something in the mech's spark, and seen something in his behavior since his arrival. Soundwave was _loyal_ to a fault, and almost endlessly forgiving of the flaws of others. He was drawn to that tolerance, and what it implied, for Primus knew he was rather far from perfect.

Soundwave let a low, shuddering sigh out of his vents, delayed a few moments from Ratchet's words. He seemed to sag back against the cushions, in what Ratchet suspected was a deep emotional reaction. Without looking back at Ratchet, Soundwave said, "Megatron, never trust. Ever. Soundwave loyal. Soundwave felt no trust. Soundwave mods, see thoughts." He tapped his head, probably indicating his lost telepathy. "Megatron never trust. Soundwave loyal."

"That must have hurt."

A slow nod. "Hurt, not physical. Spark hurt. Soundwave, follow orders. Soundwave, loyal, duration of time first to last Soundwave Decepticon. "

"The entire time you were a Decepticon? Entire - it means _all_."

"Yes. Duration of time _entire_. Always loyal. No trust. Megatron like, Megatron appreciate, grateful, to Soundwave. Megatron trust none Decepticons." Soundwave's lips quirked up in a smile. "Soundwave, when Ratchet hack, saw Ratchet tell truth, not lies."

"I have told a few lies. Primus! I'm not perfect. Far from it."

"Ratchet more truth than lies." Soundwave's fingers closed on Ratchet's arm. "Soundwave telepath mods broken. Not know. But _believe_. Ratchet say trust. Ratchet say friend. Soundwave trust Ratchet. Ratchet tell truth."

He nodded slowly. "You're saying you believe me when I say I like you and I trust you?"

"Yes." Soundwave leaned forward, tipped Ratchet's mouth upwards with his fingertips under Ratchet's chin, and kissed him gently. His mouth was sensual, sensitive, and _skilled_. Ratchet hadn't been kissed like that very often in his life, and he found himself responding without hesitation. It was different now, he told himself. He and Soundwave could _talk_.

Soundwave's circuits were thrumming with anticipation as Ratchet guided him to the berth. The medic's hand was solid and warm on his back, and he wanted _more_.

He had started out simply wanting to earn the medic's favor and affection. That goal was accomplished, with Ratchet stating he trusted Soundwave, and that he was Soundwave's friend. Soundwave's fans stuttered briefly in reaction to that memory. His _friend_. Not his master, not his superior. Not a ranking officer. Simply his _friend_.

That was not what Soundwave been expecting, and yet, everything he'd wanted. His bond with his symbionts notwithstanding, it had been a long time since he'd had a _friend_. He'd let something within his spark freeze over after Fairwinds had died, and had thought his symbionts had been sufficient companionship.

Ratchet said something to him, voice low and calm, but optics bright and focused on his face. The visor showed the words on his HUD. He only understood about half of them, "Soundwave, #### I #### valve."

"Query: statement not understood."

Ratchet laughed. "### try ### again. Soundwave," he held one finger up, waggled it, made circle with his other fingers, "Ratchet." He then made a very crude gesture with the pointed finger designated 'Soundwave' inserted into the circle and thrust several times.

Soundwave laughed, pressing his forehead briefly against Ratchet's. The medic never ceased to surprise him.

The medic continued, said, "Ratchet," and held up a pointy finger. "And Ratchet." And made a circle with his other hand. "Both good."

Ratchet was grinning, clearly amused by his own lewd hand signals. Soundwave couldn't help but think that the medic was going to get along with Frenzy very well indeed. It was a shame that Rumble had never known him as anything but an enemy.

"Query: _word_." Soundwave held a finger up and waggled it suggestively. He had realized he didn't have the slang terms for certain body parts.

"Spike." Ratchet made the circle gesture with his fingers. "Valve."

"Thank you." He shuttered his optics behind the visor to think for a minute. He'd never liked being on the bottom. It just didn't feel _right _to spike Ratchet, however. No matter how much Ratchet assured him they were equals, they simply weren't. Not yet, and perhaps not ever.

However, his few times experimenting with receiving, when he had been a student at the Iacon University, so very long ago, had been hurried, scrambled affairs. He'd disliked giving up control to others and he'd gained no pleasure from the act. Megatron, of course, had been rough, and it had been mildly unpleasant. The unpleasantness had been compounded by Megatron's expectation that he overload, and his inability to do so.

He worried if Ratchet was on top, he might not climax. Would Ratchet take it the wrong way if that happened?

He _really _didn't want to spike the medic. It felt wrong. Ratchet was his superior, and he didn't want to confuse that. He had taken the dominant role the other night, but he'd had a cube of high grade to lower his inhibitions. It had also been very clear that Ratchet had needed comfort, and he had been irresistably drawn to that very real need. The situation was different now, however.

Ratchet's hand was stroking his arm. Ratchet was different. At the very least Ratchet wouldn't make it hurt, and he could make sure Ratchet enjoyed it. It still took him a nervous moment to respond with, "Soundwave want Ratchet spike."

His earlier anticipation and arousal had vanished.

"Soundwave, ### spiked often?"

He shook his head, admitting that much. He guessed the question had been if he'd been spiked often. However, to make his desires clear, he insisted, "Want Ratchet."

Ratchet stared out into space for a moment, expression distant. His hand remained gentle on Soundwave's arm. Then he turned back, and said quietly, "I trust you to tell the truth to me."

It _was _the truth, he told himself. The medic was strong, powerful, and intelligent. Soundwave needed a protector, a champion, a _friend_. He had no fear of this act with Ratchet. Ratchet would make it enjoyable. He had every reason to _want_ it.

And a lot of worries.

But the bottom line was that he _needed _Ratchet, and he would be whatever Ratchet wanted in turn. He'd already reaped the rewards of his work for Ratchet, with the new visor, with his repairs, and with the way that Frenzy was being cared for. He needed Ratchet's protection. He needed to submit to Ratchet even if Ratchet didn't want him to.

And … it wouldn't be so bad. Ratchet was attractive. It was the _truth _that part of him very much wanted him. Need and want mingled together into powerful desire, and Soundwave finally, simply, said, "Soundwave truth. Want Ratchet."

Ratchet asked, "### Megatron hurt you?"

"Soundwave followed orders. Soundwave followed orders in _berth_." He didn't want to discuss that.

"Mmm." Ratchet settled onto the berth next to him. "Soundwave, you can say no to me."

Soundwave smirked. "Say yes to Ratchet."

"### that's good to know." Ratchet's voice held a wealth of amusement. And then he leaned over, and touched his lips to Soundwave's in a ghost of a kiss that slowly turned tender and intimate, not demanding so much as assuring. Soundwave found he was unworried when he reclined on the berth. Ratchet's solid weight atop his chest was comforting, like a shield against the world. He was safe. Ratchet cared about him and called him _friend_. He had hope for the future, embodied in the mech whose blue optics held so much warmth.

It had been so very long since he'd had a master he genuinely and truly cared about. It had been so long since he'd had a lover, or a friend, that he had a hard time remembering what that was like.

However, when Ratchet slid his bulky body between Soundwave's legs, he tensed reflexively, remembering past pain, failure, and humiliation. He had _wanted _to please Megatron, but Megatron had been dissatisfied with his efforts. He had not climaxed, and although he had tried to give the appearance of enjoying the experience, Megatron had not been fooled. His master had taken it as a personal insult, and had disdained to 'face with him after the first few failed attempts.

Perhaps if he'd been better in the berth, Megatron would have seen fit to keep him …

_No_. He told himself that was not a dignified line of thought. He was not a whore, to buy himself a place with his body alone. He was worth more than that, at least, and he would not have allowed himself to become a mere berth toy.

He needed to get this _right_. Ratchet would be terribly upset, for entirely different reasons than Megatron, if he felt that his efforts in the berth were inadequate. Soundwave's assessment of Ratchet was that he would feel guilty, and perhaps reluctant to try again for fear of … imposing, perhaps … on Soundwave. That reaction could lead to a negative view of Soundwave himself, eventually, as the guilt festered. He _had _to climax, and to enjoy Ratchet's attentions.

Ratchet's hands caressed his plating. The mech's weight was warm, the vibration of his motors and fans humming against Soundwave's chassis. Ratchet kissed him again, and pressed his hips against Soundwave's pelvic structure. Ratchet revved his engine, teasingly, just a little. He'd deliberately fired his power plant's pistons out of sync, not enough to be dangerous, but enough to send what should have been an arousing tremor through both their frame's. That was a skilled lover's trick, and one that Soundwave himself was well aware of.

Ratchet was _trying_. It was clear that he knew what he was doing, and had considerable experience in the berth.

Soundwave, however, felt nothing. The nimble fingers on his armor left no trails of heat behind. The vibrations did not excite his systems, they simply made his vision briefly blur and his plating rattle. His spark was a tense ball of nervous energy, with no desire.

Ratchet revved his systems harder, to the point where they were probably close to redlining. Soundwave knew he should be crying out in ecstasy, and he tried to fake it with a loud moan. He clutched at Ratchet's armor, arched his back, and groaned. Maybe if Ratchet moved on to actually interfacing with him, he could get into it.

Ratchet stopped, suddenly, leaving Soundwave a bit surprised that the mech didn't promptly implode from the effort of containing his arousal. His fans were howling, his engine rumbling, his optics alight with power. Soundwave could feel the heat radiating from Ratchet's chassis, and the build up of static electricity and potent electromagnetic fields buzzed against his armor.

The medic stared at him, brilliant optics narrowing, so that the blue glow gleamed between suspicious and nearly closed shutters.

"Soundwave want Ratchet," he assured him. It wasn't a lie. He wanted Ratchet to interface with him, and he was frustrated and angry at himself for not responding. It had gone like this with Megatron, too. It had been a relief when Megatron's irritation had caused the tyrant to give up after only a few encounters. He would not be relieved at all if Ratchet spurned him in the future. He said, softly, "Please."

Ratchet was silent as the fires of his arousal slowly died away. Narrowed optics softened as Ratchet simply looked at him. A more nervous mech than Soundwave might have squirmed under that gaze. As it was, Soundwave realized that Ratchet _knew _he wasn't aroused, and might be seeing his statement that he 'wanted' Ratchet as a lie.

Ratchet barked a laugh. "Soundwave, my friend, you are frightened."

"Soundwave not frightened." The visor gave him no way to emphasize that statement vocally. Its speech was even more monotone than that he'd uttered before the accident. This was one of those rare instances when he would have liked to have raised his voice, just a little, in angry denial. He'd been worried about Ratcheting thinking he was lying, and the medic just thought he was scared. It was embarrassing!

"Don't get pissed off at me." Ratchet's response was swift, and a bit irritated. Apparently, the twist of his mouth and his body language had conveyed his reaction to Ratchet well enough.

He took a moment to master control of his emotions, and then to convey his feelings with his limited vocabulary. (He found he was quite grateful for Ratchet's earlier tutoring on profanity and insults, as well. _Pissed _would have been a difficult one to figure out even with the visor's built-in thesaurus!) He stated, "Soundwave wants Ratchet."

"You said that." Ratchet frowned at him. "I trust you, Soundwave. Don't lie to me."

He flinched, and again Ratchet saw that flinch. He said slowly,, "Frenzy said you are a spike mech. Why do you want me to spike you?"

"Frenzy talks much." He'd have to have a talk with Frenzy about discretion. At least he could get his meaning across now … the thought of being able to talk to his symbiont, even if it was to lecture him, filled him with startling warmth.

Ratchet shook his head. "Frenzy loves you, Soundwave. He about ### my plating off after we interfaced."

"Soundwave correct Frenzy."

Ratchet held a staying hand up. "It's okay. He was defending you."

Had Frenzy had the temerity to chew Megatron's plating off (whatever that meant, Soundwave was certain it had been impolite), Megatron probably would have killed him swiftly. That Ratchet was _protecting _Frenzy from Soundwave's anger made him stop and blink in surprise. Primus, Ratchet had so much power … and he wielded it so _fairly_. He wanted this mech. He wanted what Ratchet could give him: protection, a home, a good life for Frenzy, meaningful work. He wanted his friendship. However, he now acknowledged that part of his spark simply _wanted _Ratchet, for who and what he was.

Ratchet reached out and traced a finger over Soundwave's cheek, just below the visor. Soundwave leaned into the touch, tilting his head a little, as Ratchet said quietly, "Frenzy told me Megatron … was not a kind lover."

"Soundwave want Ratchet. Not Megatron."

Despite the complete lack of intonation in the words coming from the visor, Ratchet clearly heard the dry humor in that statement, and grinned. "Good to know I'm preferred over #####."

He assumed the unknown phrase, 'old bucket-head', was insulting nickname for Megatron. He'd get Ratchet to fill him in on all the slang terms the Autobots had for Megatron later. Or, better yet, he'd grill Frenzy. It would probably be good for Frenzy to discuss what happened with Megatron anyway, and that might be a way to start.

"Soundwave," Ratchet said, settling down so that his weight rested on Soundwave's sturdy chassis, and looking directly into Soundwave's visor. "Does this #### you of Megatron?"

Another word he didn't know, but he could infer the meaning. "Interfacing with Megatron unpleasant, not traumatic."

"Bullshit." Ratchet's voice held growling anger, "He _hurt _you. And I don't mean ##### pain, I mean spark pain. Did he ###### with you?"

The unknown word was, 'merge.' He couldn't infer the meaning, so he asked, "Query: Merge?"

"Spark to spark. You, Megatron."

He couldn't stop the revulsion that twisted his mouth. He tapped his helm with one finger. "Soundwave, telepath. Interface, yes. Spark, never. Megatron spark … bad."

Megatron would never have merged with him. Megatron trusted no one with that level of intimacy.

"If you knew he was such a ####, why follow him?" Ratchet growled, suddenly sounding irritated. "You're a good mech. I've touched your _core _when I put you together. Why follow ####?"

"Symbionts." He touched his chest, suddenly grieving for all he had lost in a fierce pang of pain that made him clench his denta and clamp his armor tight to his frame. "Decepticon cause, acceptable, duration of time creation to many years after. Megatron, not bad. Starscream, not bad. War, changed Starscream, Megatron. Soundwave, gave oath. Soundwave, kept oath, even after war changed. Autobots have bad too. Decepticons, more likely to win. Soundwave, protected and valued by Megatron. Odds good, Soundwave survive. Strategy, Soundwave valuable to Megatron, important to cause. Flaw in strategy, Soundwave too important. Soundwave, valid strategic target."

He had not put this logic into words, even in his own head, until now. If he had been less competent, less of a high-value target, his symbionts would not have died. Ratchet ran a hand over his face. All signs of arousal had vanished from Ratchet's frame, though the smaller mech was still nestled between his legs and resting his weght on Soundwave's chassis. Ratchet paraphrased back at him, "You're saying that you liked the Decepticon cause when you joined, but war changed the Decepticon goals, and the character, of the leaders? That's a fair assessment. I'd agree with that."

He only understood about half that, and took time to decipher the rest using the thesaurus. Ratchet patiently waited for his response, clearly understanding that this method of communication was slow, and required considerable thought and analysis on Soundwave's part. While he waited, Ratchet intertwined his fingers with those of one of Soundwave's hands, then rubbed his thumbs over the armor on the back of Soundwave's hand. It was a comforting touch, the touch of a friend, and somehow, it relaxed him.

He sighed, and said, "Decepticon cause, flawed. Autobot cause, flawed. Decepticons … less flawed. In the beginning. Soundwave, personal experience with Autobot corruption."

"Under Sentinel."

"After Sentinel."

"What happened?"

Soundwave's reaction to that question was a flare of anger and grief so fierce he felt Frenzy's answering alarm. He forced himself to calm, and let Frenzy feel he was not frightened or full of rage. It was old, old, pain that still felt fresh. "Not enough words," he said, "tell, later."

Ratchet accepted that. "And then … the war corrupted the 'con goals, but you figured your best chance of survival was with Megatron?"

"Yes. Autobots, weak. Now, Autobots stronger. Better tactics, better leaders." Soundwave shuttered his optics behind the visor. What would have happened if he'd sided with the Autobots in the beginning? With his help, the war might be over now. More importantly, his bondmates might still be living. He was not a mech to dwell on the past, having learned that accomplished little, but communicating his thoughts on matters made it feel more real and painful.

"So you picked the wrong side, then stuck with it out of … loyalty? And because you thought your family would survive best as 'cons?"

"Affirmative." He shook his head slowly. How had interfacing turned into such a deep and troublesome discussion? And yet, he didn't think either of them would be willing to touch on subjects this personal if they were not holding each other. Intimacy was easier with physical contact, and this discussion was far more intimate than the act of interfacing. "Survival of symbionts, priority. Miscalculations made. Soundwave, failed."

Ratchet's fingers rubbed at Soundwave's hand, urging him to relax the fingers he'd balled into an fist.

"Soundwave, help Autobots. Help _Ratchet_. Frenzy's survival most important. New calculation: Autobots able to win war. Frenzy, happy and safe under Autobot rule."

"Sounds like you've seen the light," Ratchet said, a little teasingly.

He deciphered that sentence, and looked up at the room's light panels in confusion. "Optics functional."

"Never mind. We'll work on idioms some other day." Ratchet had worked his way up Soundwave's wrist, fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to sensors and armor mounts. He pulled a rag out of subspace, and cleaned a bit of grease out of a seam without comment. They were both silent for a moment, then Ratchet repeated, "Megatron hurt you. Do you fear I will hurt you too?"

"_Never_." He hesitated, then added, "Not damage to body."

Ratchet sighed. "You said you #### not lie to me."

"Not afraid of Ratchet," he responded, stubbornly. "Ratchet, medic. Ratchet repair. Ratchet not damage."

Piercing blue optics looked up at him, and seemed to see right through him to his spark. He tensed, even though he _was _telling the truth. He had no fear that Ratchet would harm him even in the worst fit of temper.

"I am a medic," Ratchet said, quietly, still fixing Soundwave with that too-perceptive gaze. "I am a medic by profession. I am also a ####."

The unknown word was 'healer' and the thesaurus provided 'medic' and 'physician' as synonyms. Confused, he asked, "Query, healer not medic?"

"The meaning is not identical," Ratchet said, voice quiet. He was noticing that Ratchet's tone became subdued, his volume low, when he spoke of things that were serious. He saved the blustery, aggressive shouting and displays of anger for minor irritations. H

Ratchet pressed the palm of his hand to Soundwave's chest, fingers spanning the seam that would separate to bare his spark. Soundwave tensed reflexively, and Ratchet sighed. "Damage from Megatron, here, too."

"Soundwave not damaged."

"That's slag." Ratchet flicked him in the chest with a finger, the impact ringing with a loud _tinggggg! _in the quiet of the medic's quarters. Ratchet gave him a wry smile.

"Soundwave not damaged. Soundwave willing. Soundwave desire cause happy Megatron." All truths, he told himself. He had wanted to please Megatron. He would have preferred it if Megatron had never invited him to his berth, but he had gone without protest because Megatron had asked.

Ratchet was so quiet for so long that Soundwave started to worry about the mech's response. He was also aware that he was failing to please Ratchet. Megatron's displeasure at his failure to climax had been upsetting to him. Ratchet's disappointment was devastating. He _had _to make this work. There was so much riding on his success here, not the least of which was his very real attraction to the mech. He _wanted _Ratchet to enjoy this.

Ratchet asked quietly, "Soundwave, have you ever enjoyed being spiked?"

It took him a minute to deciper 'enjoyed' and 'being' - the latter was quite difficult to decrypt because _being _could also be a person - a 'sentient entity' the thesaurus suggested - and that made comprehending the meaning quite a bit harder.

It was a blunt, hard question. Ratchet was silent, patient, waiting for his answer. While he waited, the mech rubbed his fingers over Soundwave's arm in small, calming circles. His weight across Soundwave's chassis felt protective. His expression, when he occasionally looked up at Soundwave's face, was searching.

He could have lied. Instead, albeit reluctantly, he gave an honest answer., "Experience, unsatisfactory."

"Soundwave, why do you want me to spike you?" Ratchet pressed a kiss to his fingers.

"Soundwave, want Ratchet," he insisted, sturdily.

"Yes, well, you could spike _me_." Ratchet flicked his chest with a finger again. Ratchet's tone was reassuringly teasing.

Soundwave had to admit it was tempting, if only to shut the damn medic up and get on with business. However, he responded, "Want … Ratchet, desirable."

He meant that Ratchet was strong, powerful, and would be a very good master. And a _friend_. He lacked the words. Whatever he said seemed to have a profound effect on the medic, however, because Ratchet's gaze softened. He stroked the side of Soundwave's helm, then rose up and moved upwards so that he could press a kiss to Soundwave's lips.

His mouth was not demanding but, rather, encouraging. Soundwave opened his mouth and attempted to follow Ratchet's lead. Ratchet made an encouraging sound, then when Soundwave brought a hand up to cup the back of his head, the medic reacted with a swift whine of fans clicking back on.

He _had _to get this right. Fairwinds had always liked the delicate sensors around her optics stroked. He lifted a hand up to see if Ratchet would appreciate that, and the medic promptly took Soundwave's hand in his own and redirected his touch to his chevron. That was a delicate piece of equipment disguised as kibble; it was part of Ratchet's diagnostic scanners. It was alive with sensory circuits, and Soundwave was surprised that Ratchet would trust him to touch it … much less encourage it.

_Trust_. There were so many different types of trust. English only seemed to have one word; Cybertronian distinguished between scores of types.

The medic had stopped kissing him, but he leaned into Soundwave's cautious stroking, blue optics half-lidded, but still watching Soundwave with interest. Ratchet caught Soundwave's other hand in his, pressed a kiss to his fingers … then shuttered his optics completely when Soundwave hesitantly stroked his cheek with the thumb of that finger.

He was, truly, a handsome mech. Up close, Ratchet's features were careworn and rugged, with small welds, pits, and scratches and scrapes. He wasn't a mech who cared much about his own physical appearance - the dents and dings in his armor showed that lack of concern, as well. It was honest wear, however, and, to Soundwave, made him that much more appealing. There was definitely such a thing as too much vanity, and that was not a flaw that Ratchet possessed.

He _wanted_ Ratchet. He wanted Ratchet as his protector and master, but he also _wanted _him in ways he had not desired another in a very long time. A lover. A friend. Perhaps, his spark whispered, a _beloved_. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be the target of that love, or the one giving it. Or … could it be mutual?

_Fairwinds_, he remembered, the pain of that loss so exquisitely sharp after eons that it felt like she had died as recently as his symbionts had. She would not be pleased with who he had become, he knew, and they would not have become lovers and bondmates if they had met in the current time. They had been equals, however, both deeply in love with the other.

Ratchet paused, pushing himself up on his hands to look down at Soundwave. He wondered if Ratchet had read his mind regarding the mech's lack of polishing when the medic produced wax and a cleaning cloth from his subspace. A fierce sense of failure seized his spark. Apparently, Ratchet had decided being detailed was better than interfacing with a mech who just couldn't get his fans to spin no matter how much he _wanted _to be aroused. Very likely, Ratchet assumed Soundwave was lying about wanting him.

Ratchet rolled off him, and he shuttered his optics, unable to bear the pain any longer. He was angry at himself, and a small bit of his spark was resentful of Ratchet. Couldn't the mech just take him? He was not aroused, but he was willing, regardless. His own climax was not mandatory.

The touch of a hand against his face plate made him snap his optics open. Ratchet repeated, "I am a _healer, _Soundwave."

He didn't understand Ratchet's meaning, not in the slightest.

The medic set the jar of wax down beside them on the berth. He rubbed a cloth across the surface, and then he gently, firmly, became to apply the paste to Soundwave's armor. His touch was slow, smooth, and a startling contrast to the medic's normal brusque, businesslike demeanor.

"Query: Why wax?" he asked, truly confused. "Wax, not needed."

He was a little scuffed, but his paint was new, and he looked fine.

Ratchet wrapped a bit of gauze around his finger and then worked the wax into the complicated armored plates at Soundwave's throat. His touch was slow and sensuous, and he applied just a little more pressure to those areas that were highly sensitive. He stroked Soundwave's vocalizer for minutes, tracing the lines of nerve wires under the sensitive metal. He rubbed under Soundwave's jaw, up the sides of his finials, and then he started on Soundwave's shoulders with bolder sweeping strokes.

"Query: Why wax?"

"Have you ever been ##### by anyone?" Ratchet asked, softly.

It took him several minutes to decipher the meaning of _pampered_. He had to cross-reference some examples in the thesaurus, and explore multiple meanings for those words, analyze it, and when he finally thought he understood Ratchet's question, significant time had passed.

"No," he said. The word had barely been in his vocabulary even _before _his injury.

"Soundwave," Ratchet said his name in a serious, grave tone, as he rubbed wax around Soundwave's cassette door, "Just relax and enjoy it."

"Query: Why?"

"Because I want to." The soft rag that Ratchet was using was leaving a trail of hypersensitzed sensors behind.

"Query: Why?"

"Because I want to make you feel good."

"Soundwave wax Ratchet," he suggested. It didn't feel right to be detailed by his master. Frenzy was perfectly capable of buffing the few scuffs he had out …

Ratchet's skilled fingers dipped into a transformation seam, spreading smooth, warm wax along the edges. The touch left a trail of heat and tingling sensors behind; Frenzy's touch never felt like that! His systems hummed a little louder in response, startling him. Why was this arousing, when Ratchet's deliberate and skilled attempts to stimulate him had failed?

Ratchet smirked. Teasingly, he asked, "Query: Soundwave dislike wax?"

Well, no. In the interest of pleasing his master, he shut up and quit protesting. He told himself that was the _only _reason. "Soundwave waxing pleasurable," he said, after a moment to construct the reply.

"Thought you'd like it."

It felt so very good to have someone just _touch _him. Lovingly, gently, without aggression and with deliberate intimacy. Ratchet took his time, humming as he worked, and missed no part of Soundwave's plating. While the wax on the front of Soundwave's body dried, he pulled a tool kit out and started making small adjustments to joints: tighting a gear here, loosening a tension wire there. It was all work that Soundwave could have done on his own, as part of his routine personal maintenance, but he found Ratchet's touch pleasurable.

_Friend_, he thought, _lover_. Far more than a master. He reminded himself not to forget that Ratchet was his superior, but it would be so easy to view him as an equal. In carrier culture, the only _equals _one had were bonded lovers. It would be so very easy to forget everything, and view Ratchet as if he were his bondmate and partner.

He was being cared for.

No.

He was being cared _about_.

Ratchet picked up a soft chamois and began buffing the dried wax off his frame. The lustrous sheen left behind was deeper and richer than he would have expected from ordinary wax. The scent was different, too; it smelled like expensive Cybertronian importants, but it definitely went on like Earthly paste wax.

"Query: Nature of wax?"

Ratchet chuckled. "My own blend, and I'll have you know that Sunstreaker's been trying to get me to divulge the recipe for years."

It took him fifteen minutes to decipher Ratchet's statement, with more cross-referencing of each word. His vocabulary grew by leaps and bounds as he worked. Just as he'd only needed to be shown a stop sign once to understand the meaning, he had an eidetic memory for the words.

He wondered if it might be possible to learn to read Cybertronian all over again. Learning English was going very well.

… No. Every Cybertronian symbol was unique, and there were many millions of them. A thesaurus would not be possible for Cybertronian, because each word had a unique and precise meaning. As a long term project, over years or decades, he might acquire a working vocabulary, but he would never again be fluent in his native language.

Well, he told himself, at least he would have a way to communicate.

By the time he'd deciphered Ratchet's words, the medic had Soundwave's feet in his lap and was rubbing the wax off. He took his time, fingers stroking the soft chamois into every cranny and fold of the complicated plating that protected Soundwave's ankle struts. Then he identified a loose bolt, extended a tool from one finger, and tightened it up. He seemed to be enjoying himself as he worked, and Soundwave watched with his head lifted up off the berth.

He really was attractive, and by his actions and words, it was clear he cared about Soundwave.

He.

Cared.

Soundwave shuttered his optics. It was overwhelming to think that Ratchet cared about him. Megatron had cared _for _him - theirs had been a relationship built out of need, for practical reasons. He needed a strong master to survive the war. Megatron had found Soundwave's abilities made him a useful minion. He had believed that Megatron was also personally fond of him, but he could not delude himself into thinking that Megatron cared about him. However, he had been cared _for _- his needs met, protection given, rank and status granted.

Megatron had never treated him like this. No master he'd ever had, had treated him like this. Ratchet's fingers were gentle, intimate, _personal_, communicating Ratchet's affection and warmth and friendship. Perhaps, he thought, he could even entertain the dream that someday the mech so gently touching him might truly _love _him.

"Roll over, and I'll do your back."

He complied, after a moment to decipher the words, turning over to lay face down on the berth. It was a very vulnerable position ...and yet, as Ratchet rubbed the wax onto his plating, his touch seemed to leave trails of heat behind. The medic was being deliberately slow, with a little more pressure than necessary, and Soundwave realized that he was brushing his fingers over sensor-laden areas with real intention. He felt so relaxed by the time Ratchet moved down to his hips that he could have slipped into recharge right then and there, and yet, at the same time, his body was alive with current. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this physically good.

The medic cared _about _him. He didn't quite understand it, but the hands stroking his body did not lie. Every inch of his body seemed to be slowly, leisurely, coming alight with warmth and energy.

Ratchet was finished with the last bit of polish, and now leaned over Soundwave's back and pressed a kiss to the base of his neck. "Are you afraid of disappointing me, Soundwave?"

His fans roared to life at the touch of lips to his neck, then stuttered back to a halt when he figured the question out. "Not afraid," he insisted sturdily, even as panic thrilled through his body.

"Trust," Ratchet kissed his way down Soundwave's back strut, ignoring but probably not oblivious to his reaction. "Honesty. You cannot have one without the other."

Ratchet's patience was truly astounding. He took a long time to figure that statement out, longer to figure out what to say, and even more time to compose a sentence. While he was silently battling with English, Ratchet simply slid upwards again so that he could lay across Soundwave's back. He said nothing, but simply waited, and stroked a thumb across the base of Soundwave's neck while he did.

"Ratchet say true words," he finally ventured. Ratchet's weight should have been claustrophobic, but instead, it felt reassuring - like Ratchet was there to stay.

"That you can't have truth without honesty, or are you admitting to being worried about failing me?"

"Both." The admission was excruciating … and liberating. He vented a long, slow sigh. His fans, which had kicked on out of stress rather than arousal, slowly stilled. Profound silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional click of a relay or soft hum of a capacitor charging. Neither of them moved for many minutes.

"Do you find me attractive?" Ratchet's voice was very small. He was startled by the question. Of course he did! How could Ratchet doubt that?

"Yes." He wished he could have put more emphasis in that reply.

"And you really want to do this?" Ratchet nuzzled his neck for a moment. "Because Primus knows, I think you're gorgeous and after what I saw in your spark, I want this to work between us."

"Want this. Tonight." The truth was that he _wanted _Ratchet to claim him, to _own _him. He was willing to belong to the medic, to _love _the medic, and he wanted Ratchet _now_. He didn't want to wait, and he didn't want to take charge. He just wanted to be held close by someone with more power than he possessed. There was safety and reassurance in Ratchet's love, and he craved it.

"Roll over," Ratchet said, quietly, moving aside so he could. Once he was on his back, Ratchet lay next to him at first, one hand stroking Soundwave's abdominal plating.

"You are so handsome," Ratchet murmured. He said more, most or all of it complimentary, but Soundwave couldn't focus enough to decipher it when Ratchet's fingers found a transformation seam that was full of sensors, and stroked with firm pressure. Suddenly he was _alive _with need, and he voiced a groan that was entirely unfeigned.

Ratchet's fingers slid lower, over his panel, cupping that rapidly heating plate. He said something, low and teasing in tone. Soundwave didn't bother to figure the words out; he could guess. He reached down himself and worked the manual catch to open his panel - he wasn't quite aroused enough for his autonomics to take over, and he couldn't understand his own code anymore.

His fingers brushed Ratchet's. The mech pulled his hand up to his mouth and licked one finger at a time, slowly, sensously. He threw his head back and grasped at the memory-foam mattress on Ratchet's berth with his other hand as Ratchet lavished attention on his fingers.

He didn't realize that Ratchet was distracting him until he felt Ratchet's finger slide inside him. He tensed, bad memories unexpectedly surfacing. He had resented Megatron, and before that, others had been hard, rough, taking him without giving back. He had never enjoyed it, and anticipated pain and the sense of _betrayal _that had previously accompanied being spiked made him nearly flinch away.

"We can stop," Ratchet offered, expression worried. "I'm not good at this sort of thing …"

"Ratchet not good lover? No experience?" He somehow knew that wasn't true. He forced a teasing smile to his face.

Ratchet snorted. "I know what I'm doing in the berth, you glitch. I'm not good at _empathy_."

"Ratchet, healer," he took a stab at the meaning of that word.

"Feh." Ratchet blew a sharp sigh out. But he pulled Soundwave's hand back to his lips and kissed his fingers again.

Soundwave had rolled his head away, somehow reluctant to look at the mech. He was so scared this wasn't going to work. There was so much riding on this; he both _wanted _a relationship to work with Ratchet, and he needed a master who cared for him.

"Soundwave," Ratchet said, "Look at me."

He forced himself to look back, and to relax a bit. He was a grown mech, and he shouldn't be reacting with such nervousness to this. He'd interfaced before, slag it!

"What are you afraid of?"

He shook his head, unwilling to give voice to his fear.

"Are you afraid that you won't be able to … perform?" Ratchet said, hesitantly. The medic's hands had stilled, one resting on his hip and the other holding his hand.

He wanted to lie.

Ratchet had made it very clear he valued honesty.

"... yes." He balled his free hand up. "Soundwave want Ratchet, but … scared."

"Ah." Ratchet pressed a kiss to Soundwave's fingers again. "So scared you can't relax and enjoy it, hm?"

He nodded reluctantly.

The medic produced something from his subspace. He lifted his head up to see what it was, and realized it was a tube of silicon based lubricant. Ratchet said softly, "I will not hurt you, Soundwave. You must promise to tell me if there is any discomfort."

"Ratchet will … spike … Soundwave?" He regarded Ratchet with a little surprise.

Ratchet said firmly. "Only way you'll ever learn how much fun it can be is to learn, first, that there's nothing _bad _about it."

The medic's expression was odd, however. His words sounded determined, but his actions seemed uneasy. He wasn't touching Soundwave any more, and his gaze was focused on the small tube of gel in his hands. Soundwave pushed himself up on one elbow and held a hand out for the tube.

Without comment other than one raised optic ridge, Ratchet handed it over.

Soundwave sat up, and Ratchet shifted too, rolling over onto his back. He slid across the mattress so he was closer to Ratchet, and then said, "Soundwave touch Ratchet?"

"Be my guest," Ratchet's optics gleamed. He snicked open his interface panel, and his spike rose. This was the first time that Soundwave had seen Ratchet's spike; the medic wasn't fully aroused, but it was clear that his equipment matched his sturdy mass.

When Soundwave touched him with hands that were slick with warmed lubricant, the medic arched his back and forcefully sucked in air through his vents. His fans kicked on. All that, in response to a bare touch.

He had offered, but Megatron hadn't trusted him to _touch_ him.

Fascinated, Soundwave stroked that long, gleaming length, thumb rubbing the underside. Ratchet's spike was definitely fully pressurized now. The mech's fingers were buried into the foam top of the berth, and he groaned and spread his legs further when Soundwave tightened his grasp and swirled his fingers around the delicate tip.

Soundwave thought Ratchet had never looked more desirable. The medic's head was thrown back, baring his throat; his optics were shuttered; his mouth open. He seemed to be lost in the moment, and Soundwave was reminded of how he and Fairwinds would make love until the universe seemed to dissolve around them and the only thing that mattered was each other. She looked like that, then. Ratchet looked like that, now - like he wasn't conscious of anything but Soundwave.

He brought Ratchet right to the edge of release and stopped, just before the point of no return. Ratchet swore at him, impatiently.

"Ratchet spike inside Soundwave," he knew that wasn't the right way to say what he wanted, but surely, Ratchet would understand the intent.

"Slag you," Ratchet rolled up onto his knees, spike flagged proud and large before him. Then, somewhat roughly, he pushed Soundwave back onto the berth. Soundwave spread his knees, expecting Ratchet would finally get on with business, but Ratchet showed more self control than he had ever seen in his life.

The medic settled between Soundwave's legs, yes, but he didn't enter him. Instead he rested his weight on Soundwave's body, and stroked a hand over Soundwave's cheek. Ratchet's fans were slowing, and his body ticked and pinged as he cooled down.

"Want you," Soundwave said, and it wasn't a lie. The subtle vibrations from Ratchet's systems were sending thrills of current through his body, wherever their frames touched. The heat that radiation from Ratchet's plating seemed to make all his circuits surge. The way Ratchet looked at him, with intensity and focus, make his spark _burn _with expectation.

And he was still so nervous. He wanted this to be perfect, he wanted to please Ratchet, he _needed _to please Ratchet.

"You are so handsome," Ratchet murmured, then said more that Soundwave didn't catch. Yet, still, the medic didn't enter him.

Soundwave didn't understand. He said, "Soundwave, ready."

"Ratchet, very ready." Ratchet dropped his head down to hit Soundwave's shoulder with a _thunk_. "Let me cool off a bit."

_Oh_. Now he got it. The medic didn't want to climax too soon.

Soundwave lifted his head up and met Ratchet's gaze from a few feet away. Ratchet's fingers traced over the side of his helm, gentle and intimate. "####, Soundwave," he said, "it's okay."

He was still trying to determine the meaning of the word 'relax' when Ratchet slowly pushed into him. He was tense, and despite the added lubrication, there was resistance and friction. His arousal, what little there was, faded. He found that he now wished the medic had spiked him immediately, so this would be over quickly. He knew he wasn't going to climax no matter what Ratchet did.

Ratchet apparently sensed this too, because he _did _finish quickly, stroking into him with shallow, steady thrusts. There was no pain, but he was certain Ratchet had to be disappointed. The medic came silently, jaw gritted, eyes shut, quivers running through his frame. He felt the hot gush of fluids into him; felt a wash of static electricity course through Ratchet's solid frame.

The medic, fans humming as he cooled down, rolled off to Soundwave's side. Soundwave stared straight up, knowing he had failed.

Ratchet's hand, tracing a transformation seam, made him jump in surprise. "I didn't like being spiked at first, either. It was a long time before learned how to climax from my valve."

He struggled to decipher that statement. Ratchet's hand continued to slide over his chest.

"Learned?" He finally asked, when he thought he understood what Ratchet was saying. How could one _learn _to climax? Either one did, or did not.

Ratchet sighed. "A good healer learns all he can about medicine. To understand sexual function, I needed to learn what it was like for valve mechs. I didn't like giving up control at first, and it was hard to relax enough to climax. You have to _relax_, Soundwave, and trust your lover."

"Ratchet, not hurt Soundwave."

"I don't mean just physically trust them." Ratchet's hand stilled, resting in the middle of his chest. "But you must also trust them with your spark."

"Soundwave, trust Ratchet," he insisted, sturdily.

"It's been a long time since you had anyone you can trust, Soundwave. Trust is a _habit_. You may want to trust me, but I know you don't, not subconsciously. You're worried about how I will react to everything."

He had no idea how to answer that. It was true. Finally, he said, "Soundwave, confused, much."

Concerned blue optics studied his face. "You think?"

That made no sense. "Query: you think?"

"Nevermind. I'll explain later.. Soundwave, it's okay to be confused about what you want. Will you answer a question truthfully, ####?"

"Yes."

"Do you _#### _want to be my lover?"

"Yes," he answered that without hesitation or any pang of guilt.

"I want you," Ratchet said, voice quiet and nearly as uncertain as Soundwave felt. "I want you as my lover, my friend, my partner. I want to see you succeed, thrive, among us. I want you to be happy here."

He heard the sincerity in Ratchet's voice, though he did not understand the medic's logic. What had he done to earn Ratchet's desire?

"I want you to be happy," Ratchet repeated.

"Ratchet, often unhappy," he finally said, thinking of the number of times he'd seen Ratchet drink, Ratchet's crankiness and impatience, and the anger that sometimes simmered just below the surface of his mood.

This prompted a sigh from his lover. "You're right. I'm not."

"Soundwave, want Ratchet happy." That, too, was true.

Ratchet did not answer that statement. Instead, he said, "We should recharge, Soundwave. It's slagging late."

However, neither of them powered down. They lay together in silence, neither recharging, for most of the night. Soundwave wasn't sure what to say; for both of them, that had been an uncharacteristic, and unsettling, sentiment. However, Ratchet's warm, sturdy bulk was reassuring as the medic held him closely. Ratchet's hand occasionally stroked his back.

_Home_, Ratchet had said.

He had not had a _home _since Fairwinds had died.

To be _happy_.

Happiness seemed possible. He hadn't been happy in a very long time.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

* * *

Author's notes: Yes! I have not abandoned this story. I haven't abandoned Masks, either. Sorry for the looong delay in posting.

Smutty chapter is smutty.

* * *

Ratchet's internal alarm woke him after a scanty few hours of recharge. Without moving he reset the alarm for three hours later, and then sent a quick message to the other medics advising he'd be in late. There were a few advantages to being CMO, including the ability to change his schedule when necessary.

He had not recharged enough to be truly functional. He also knew he needed time to process the events of the night before, and until he did, he wasn't going to be able to give his patients the full attention they deserved. He was truly confused about the relationship he was developing with Soundwave, and needed a little time to think.

_:Are you okay, Ratchet?: _Wheeljack, who had the graveyard shift, immediately asked him.

_:Fine. Tired.:_

_:Maybe I should ask if you were okay last night,: _Wheeljack's tone turned teasing._ :Sideswipe's latest batch is getting rave reviews.:_

Sideswipe had a new batch of high grade? He _had _been distracted if he'd missed that news!

_:Jackie, you _know _I've never been late for my shift due to drink.: _He moved a bit, and realized for the first time that there was a heavy arm around his middle, and Soundwave's leg was thrown over his thigh for good measure. Soundwave seemed like he was still recharging, but the way he was holding Ratchet was reassuringly relaxed and confident.

_:Nah. You just take your hangover out on the rest of us.:_

_:I do not!: _He protested vigorously.

_:My dents say otherwise.: _Wheeljack's tone was teasing. _:You need any help with anything, boss?:_

Soundwave's vents hummed quietly, blowing warm air against his back. He relaxed into Soundwave's embrace, enjoying the intimacy. It felt so good to just lay there, in a lover's arms, accepted and _wanted. _However, there was no way he was going to admit to 'Jack what his real reason for playing hooky was.

_:Nah, I just want to do some work with Soundwave a bit. I don't have anything else scheduled this morning except some body work that can wait. He needs some upgrades to that visor and I'd like to work on balance with him. And I haven't had a chance to check the wear on his joints - with the odd way he walks, he's going to have problems with stress to his knees and hips. To some extent, I can mitigate the damage with very frequent tension adjustments and cleaning: _He tried to sound casual.

_:You know, serious rumor has it that you're doing more than tweaking his systems.: _Wheeljack's tone was teasing again.

_:So what if I am?: _He decided not to deny it to Wheeljack, who was one of his oldest friends, and who knew him better than most. However, he couldn't quite keep a belligerent tone from his response.

Wheeljack's response was the electronic version of a wolf-whistle, followed by, _:Seriously?:_

_:We're both adults,: _he snapped. _:Consenting. And _he _started it.:_

_:Whatever spins your cogs, man.: _Wheeljack sounded dubious.

_:It's _not _like that!: _Ratchet's defensiveness hit a whole new pitch. He tensed up, causing Soundwave to stir slightly as he onlined a few sensors. He wasn't quite out of recharge yet, but would wake if Ratchet didn't force himself to calm down. In a more reasonable, if petulant, tone, Ratchet added, _:Slag, Wheeljack, you know me. I don't sleep around. This is … different.:_

Wheeljack didn't answer for a long time. Finally, he said, _:I've known you since we were both in the university together. You've said that to me before.:_

_:Slag it, Jackie, this time it is _different_.: _Ratche started to sit up. Soundwave made a sleepy-sounding groan and tightened his grip on Ratchet's waist.

Wheeljack sighed. _:He's …:_

_:If you say he's a 'con this conversation is over,: _Ratchet's response was frosty.

_:I was going to say, he's probably a better match for you than most of your choices. You always went for the ones who hit back.: _Wheeljack's response was mild, and unoffended.

He winced. _:Wheeljack, I'm not that bad.:_

_:No, but you always picked lovers who were just like you, and half the time it ended up being a critical mass of temper.: _Wheeljack's chuckle was warm, despite Ratchet's prickly temper. _:Fine. I think it's weird, but I won't tell anyone, and I wish you luck.:_

_:Thanks, Jackie. It's not a secret, though.: _Ratchet's attention was briefly diverted as Soundwave's fingers traced circles around his headlight. _:Optimus already knows. He's encouraging me.:_

_:He would.:_

Soundwave nuzzled the back of his neck.

_:Talk to you later, Jackie.: _He cut the connection and rolled over to face Soundwave. Soundwave's optics glinted through the mirrored glass of his visor, just barely visible. He smiled faintly.

"Good morning, lover."

Soundwave nodded. "Yes."

Last night had been illuminating, on many levels. Soundwave had been so tense it was a wonder the mech hadn't vibrated right out of his armor from nervousness. He had not been surprised when Soundwave couldn't climax, and he suspected it would take awhile before Soundwave could relax and overload as the receiving party.

It felt … wrong … to Ratchet for Soundwave to gain no pleasure from their lovemaking. He'd been truthful when he told Wheeljack that he wanted to work on Soundwave's systems, but his usual shift didn't start for an hour - and he'd moved his official start time back three hours. Right now, this was his own time, and nothing said he couldn't have some fun before the work began.

Ratchet slid off the berth, a plan forming. Soundwave started to follow, but Ratchet stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, so that he was seated on the edge of the platform, then bent and kissed him. Soundwave seemed a bit surprised, then rather interested. His hands pulled Ratchet closer, gripping Ratchet's hips, then sliding up his back. They left a trail of heat behind; Primus, but he wanted to see Soundwave more assertive and confident in the berth!

He'd been hurt so badly, in so many ways. The physical was nothing compared to what Ratchet was beginning to suspect was profound emotional trauma. And yet, he had felt so much about Soundwave's core personality, and had learned more from his behavior. He had so much potential, and the possibilities drew Ratchet to him.

He was impatient to see Soundwave flourish, to hear him laugh (scary though it sounded), and to see him smile. It was clear that Soundwave wanted to make a place for himself here, too, and that goal seemed so attainable. It would take time - he reminded himself that he couldn't expect everything to happen overnight - but it would happen.

Soundwave also needed to build confidence in the berth, he thought. With that in mind, he dropped down to his knees. Soundwave froze, and made a noise that was pure static. Ratchet looked up at him and grinned. "Open up for me?"

Soundwave shook his head quickly.

"Why not?" Ratchet rested the palm of his hand on Soundwave's panel.

"Query: Why?"

"Because I want to." Ratchet could feel the heat under the palm of his hand. Soundwave was clearly aroused, even if he wasn't admitting it. "I want to."

Soundwave's fans kicked on, even as he shook his head in another denial.

"Why not?" Ratchet repeated. He grinned and added, "I don't bite."

Soundwave's laugh was nervous, but Ratchet was glad to hear it. He said in a more serious tone, "It would make me happy to see you enjoy this."

It took Soundwave a good five minutes to figure out that sentence. He finally answered, "Why happy?"

"Because I like seeing you happy."

"Climax not happen," Soundwave predicted, shifting his weight and nervously lacing his fingers together in the air above his lap, over Ratchet's head. He didn't seem to have any idea where to put his hands. Ratchet was reasonably certain he'd never seen Soundwave quite this visibly nervous before in the entire time he'd been acquainted with the mech. For half a click, it seemed like Soundwave was channeling a silent version of Bluestreak. Ratchet would have laughed if he wasn't certain that Soundwave would have been mortally embarrassed.

"Not Ratchet bad lover. Soundwave … unable." Soundwave finally explained, when Ratchet waited with patience (hand still on his panel) for elaboration. "Want. Unable."

"You're saying you can't come?" Ratchet smiled. "I'm going to take that as a challenge, buddy. If I can make you blow, you get to fetch our morning energon the rest of the week."

"A … bet?" Soundwave sounded incredulous. His disbelief was accompanied by a noticeable reduction in tension. He quit fidgeting and planted his hands on the berth on either side of his legs. He said, suspiciously, "Ratchet fetch energon too, lose?"

"Yeah, yeah," he was certain that wasn't going to happen. "I'll get breakfast if I lose. Pit, I'll make you energon goodies too."

"Terms agreeable."

_There _was the sense of humor he knew lurked deep in the mech's spark. It was at least as dark as his own, and every bit as sarcastic. If Soundwave was finding humor in the situation, he knew that he was no longer close to glitching from anxiety.

"Open up, buddy." He tapped Soundwave's panel. Soundwave seemed a bit hesitant, so he followed the tap by slowly trailing his fingers down either side of the domed piece of metal. He pressed the tips of his digits into the seams, seeking delicate and highly tuned sensors and triggering them with a whisper of pressure that promised more.

Soundwave's panel snicked aside - his autonomics had kicked in, which Ratchet took to be a very good sign. Soundwave groaned and visibly surrendered to Ratchet's touch, all hint of resistance disappearing. Ratchet ran his hand down Soundwave's thigh, reassuringly, and took a moment to appreciate Soundwave's equipment's design. He was large, ribbed, with a ridge on top designed just right to press against a partner's external sensors. His tip was a little larger than the shaft - there would be a perfect degree of stretch when he entered Ratchet's valve! - and his spike was the gleaming silver of a protoform, unadorned by enamel or decorations.

Ratchet rested his hands on Soundwave's thighs, anticipation making his mouth curl up into a smirk. Oh, this was going to be good. His fingers could feel the change in Soundwave's energy fields as he became aroused. Soundwave was definitely interested in the proceedings in all the right sorts of ways.

Ratchet, smugly, pressed just his lips to the tip of Soundwave's shaft. He was _good _at this - a combination of practice and medical knowledge. His past lovers had never left him due to disappointment about his skills in the berth!

When Ratchet curled his lower lip under his spike's head and rubbed one of the wickedly sensitive nodes there, Soundwave let out a muffled cry, all static and meaningless tones that nonetheless expressed his appreciation perfectly. Had Ratchet's mouth not been otherwise occupied, he would have been grinning broadly. _That _was the sort of reaction he was looking for, and judging by the flare of electrical fields and the howling fans that had accompanied that outcry, he was damned certain Soundwave would be retrieving their morning energon from the rec room this week.

Soundwave's fingers brushed the back of his head. They were trembling with restrained power. Gently, impossibly gently, Soundwave stroked his helm.

Ratchet, grinning, took as much of that thick spike into his mouth as he could. Soundwave's gentle touch turned into reflexive grab, fingers closing around Ratchet's head with almost painful force. He made a sobbing, buzzing sound, and his heels vibrated against the floor. He was close, very close, and with truly evil knowledge of Cybertronian physiology, Ratchet slowed down and let up on the pressure. It was too soon. He wanted to draw this out.

Soundwave grabbed Ratchet's hand, holding on fiercely. Ratchet laced his fingers through Soundwave's digits, squeezing tight as he worked. The contact was oddly intimate. It was strange, but suddenly this felt _different _than all the times he'd done this with other mechs. The goal wasn't just to get Soundwave off, but to express his affection for the mech. He squeezed Soundwave's hand back, and was rewarded by a caress down his back struts that set his own fans to roaring. There was nothing inherently erotic in that touch, except for the knowledge that it was _Soundwave _stroking his plating.

Soundwave was panting air through his mouth now, as his fans were insufficient to cool his internals. Ratchet pulled Soundwave's hand down so that the mech's knuckles rested against his mouth as he slid up and down his engorged spike.

Soundwave finally came with a grunt, hand clenching tighter around Ratchet's fingers, and his entire body quivering with release. He sagged backwards, catching himself with his free hand, and when Ratchet looked up he saw that Soundwave's visor was dark and his head thrown back.

He rose, leaned over, and pressed a kiss to Soundwave's mouth. "Good?"

After a moment, Soundwave replied, "... Soundwave get energon."

Ratchet caught Soundwave's head in an embrace that was half headlock, pulled him close to his chest plates, and laughed. He was very pleased when Soundwave chuckled too, laughing at himself, or perhaps just in relief that his worst fears of being _unable _had not happened.

However, when he released Soundwave, the mech grew serious. He could see quick flickers of his optics moving behind the mirrored glass as Soundwave picked letters out, so he knew that Soundwave was about to say something. Though by nature Ratchet was an impatient mech, he made himself give Soundwave time to finish composing his words. It seemed rude to hurry him or try to guess what he was going to say.

"Soundwave," Soundwave spoke, finally, in a tone that indicated amusement, "defect Autobots long ago if aware Ratchet skills berth."

He snorted. "There's something to be said for experience over youth. So did I blow your fuses, or can you stand up yet?"

Soundwave pushed himself up on two legs. "Shower required. Shift starting soon."

"Yeah, you're telling me." He glanced down at the scrapes, scuffs, and fluids that stained his legs and chest. "C'mon, there's room for two in the wash rack, and I've got some paint in your color to hide those scrapes. And I'm going to work on your systems a bit this morning, so you don't need to worry about reporting to the med bay."

They didn't make it to the shower. They made it as far as the wash rack doorway. He was completely taken by surprise when Soundwave pressed him up against the wall next to the door, hands sliding down his sides, mouth hungrily seeking his. It was unexpected but not unwanted; he groaned and flared his armor, giving those skilled hands access to his systems. Soundwave's newfound confidence was wonderful. "Yeah, like that. I like that. That's right big guy, _now _you have the idea …"

"Okay," Frenzy's voice said, from across the room, "you guys _do _know I'm home, right?"

They sprang apart. Ratchet was amused by the sound of surprise that came from Soundwave's vocalizer. Soundwave really should have known Frenzy was in the room, but had, apparently, been thoroughly distracted. Ratchet cleared his throat, regarded the symbiont with as much dignity he could muster while wearing Soundwave's fluids and paint transfers, and said, "Your master started it."

"Ratchet start. Soundwave _finish_." Soundwave corrected.

Frenzy, who was seated on his pallet in the corner, covered his optics with both hands. "I didn't need to know that."

"This was just a continuation of last night, buddy. Which _you _started." He shoved Soundwave affectionately with the heel of his hand. "Frenzy, how long have you been here?"

"Long enough to know you're noisy." Frenzy smirked at him. "And enthusiastic."

Ratchet grinned. "Want me to give you some pointers?"

"Oh, would you?" Frenzy replied, in a bright, cheerful tone. "I know you've got about ten million years of experience."

"Hey, watch it, kid." Ratchet growled. "I'm in charge of your work schedule."

"Yes, sir!" Frenzy saluted him.

"Frenzy," Soundwave said, "Rude, impertinent."

"Of course I am, boss." Frenzy turned that blinding smile on Soundwave. "And you love me for it."

"Frenzy." Soundwave pointed at the door. "Fetch energon."

"Sir, yes sir!" Frenzy saluted him, then scampered out the door.

Ratchet snickered, "Delegating, Soundwave?"

"Frenzy, know better. Rude."

"Ah, the kid was just having fun." Ratchet didn't see any harm in the exchange.

"Rudeness, cause trouble. Frenzy, easily damaged. Risk, too high." Soundwave met Ratchet's gaze evenly.

"I would _not _hurt him!" Ratchet was shocked, and a little upset, by the implication. He narrowed his optics, wondering if he should be angry.

"Ratchet, rude back, all good. Others hear rude Frenzy, hurt Frenzy," Soundwave elaborated. "

"I _highly _doubt that. They'd probably egg him on."

"Query: Egg?"

"Nevermind." Ratchet shook his head.

"Soundwave, need data. Prefer not nevermind." Soundwave insisted.

"Egg him on - it means encourage him." He made a mental note not to be dismissive of Soundwave's questions about language. Soundwave _needed _the help, and it wouldn't help his confidence if Ratchet put off his questions.

"Ratchet eggs him on Soundwave learn language?"

"Correct grammar - Ratchet eggs Soundwave on. And no, not quite the same as encouraging you to learn more English." Ratchet ran a hand over his face, then gestured at the wash rack's entrance. "Let's get clean, and then I'll give you some examples for data."

"Suggestion, acceptable."

Soundwave found he was charmed by Ratchet's informal approach to life, and rapidly growing fond of the relaxed attitude of the Autobots in general.

Currently, the medic sat crosslegged on the berth, with Soundwave's visor propped on his knee. He'd connected a datapad to the device and was making some modifications to the software. Soundwave watched, admiring Ratchet's sturdy lines and powerful build as much as observing the modifications to his visor.

Once done with the programming Ratchet offered it back to Soundwave. Soundwave clicked it back into place and discovered he now had multiple new options in a toolbar at the top of his HUD. They included, "Happy," "Sad," "Angry," "Curious," and several more.

He clicked 'curious' with a blink of his optics and then composed the sentence, "Soundwave testing visor."

The voice that issued from the visor's speaker now had a subtle upwards pitch change at the end. He'd been afraid that Ratchet's modications would result in cartoonish, exaggerated emotive cues in his voice. Instead, he sounded more like himself. He ran through the whole range of options; 'rage' generated a rumbling growl in his voice, and 'overcharged' made him sound slightly giddy with a little slurring. The rest of the cues all resulted in very subtle changes to the voice.

_Perfect_, he thought, and turned to Ratchet in gratitude. "Ratchet, thank you."

"Mmmhmm." Ratchet grinned. "Can't have my assistant sounding like a robot. Now - I've cleared a couple hours in my schedule and that went faster than I thought. I've been meaning to get you down to the training room for some PT. You up for it?"

"Query: PT?"

"Physical therapy."

"Soundwave, pleased by idea."

Soundwave quickly discovered that Ratchet's idea of "physical therapy" had more in common with sparring with Megatron than the quiet, sedate calisthenics he'd imagined. Not that he was complaining. He was enjoying himself immensely. While not a mech who needed constant mental and physical stimulation, he _had _been bored and a little irritated by the assumption that many mechs made about his physical abilities.

He was not an invalid. He was not even in any physical pain. Yet he'd noticed a tendency among the med bay staff, and even the patients, to treat him as if he was breakable.

By contrast, Ratchet had treated him like a competent adult since the moment he'd established his mind was intact. His _balance _still needed work, but Ratchet wasn't hesitating to knock him down and throw him around. The only difference between this bout and sparring matches he'd had in the past with other 'cons was that Ratchet repeatedly stopped and pointed out how Soundwave could improve his technique to compensate for his poor balance.

He would improve his balance, he would learn to compensate, or he would end up on the ground. All things considered, Soundwave liked that approach. It was no-nonsense and efficient.

He clashed with Ratchet again, trying to use his greater height and longer legs to his advantage. If he could hook Ratchet's feet out from under him he could knock the medic down. Ratchet countered with a vicious twist of his upper body that put most of his weight into a hard blow with his armored elbow. By the pain, he'd just acquired a dent. Ratchet followed through with a couple more well-aimed blows.

With a crash of metal armor and a teasing cry of victory from Ratchet, he hit the rubber training mat hard for the fourth time in ten minutes. Ratchet was _good _at hand to hand. He'd known that, of course; Ratchet's prowess in battle was as legendary as his healing abilities.

He was _learning_, however. He'd stayed on his feet for close to a minute longer this time than the first time they'd grappled with each other. Each time they clashed it gave him just a little more data for his motor circuits to auto-calibrate with.

"Get up," Ratchet said, tone amused. He held his hand out and pulled Soundwave back to his feet. "Had enough yet?"

He was still parsing the words in that statement, and hadn't quite deciphered the meaning, when Ratchet reached down and moved Soundwave's left foot back a couple feet. "And you need to change your stance for better balance - Here, like this. Move your toe out."

Ratchet positioned his foot so that it formed a "T" shape with his other foot. "There. Now you've got more stability. Try to keep your feet like that as you move."

"Continue sparring. Please."

"Masochist." Ratchet, optics gleaming brightly. The medic planted a hand in the middle of his chest and gave a hard shove. Soundwave staggered backwards, but didn't fall. However, Ratchet followed through and pushed him again. This time, he landed on his aft with a loud _clang_. Too late, he realized he'd straightened his left foot out when he'd stepped backwards.

Ratchet smirked at him, and stuck his hand out. "Get up."

"Soundwave, try again." He let Ratchet pull him back to his feet, even as he was analyzing what had gone wrong.

Ratchet's grin was a reward for that stubborn statement. "Soundwave, you never quit, do you?"

"No intention quit. Intention _win_." He disliked losing immensely, at anything. He would see the medic on the ground at his feet, even if he had to acquire many more dents before doing so. His goal was to take Ratchet down today; if he didn't succeed, he'd keep trying until he did. Ratchet's smugness was just irritating enough that Soundwave felt a strong desire to defeat the medic in at least one round.

Unbidden, his imagination helpfully supplied an imagine of what he could do to Ratchet once he had him down, too. There was thrusting involved. He hoped Ratchet assumed that the noise his fans were making was entirely due to exertion ...

"Hah." Ratchet gave him another hard shove. This time, when Ratchet's weight forced him to step back, Soundwave planted his foot at the correct angle. He remained standing.

Ratchet promptly kicked out, knocking his near foot out from underneath him. Soundwave hit the ground with a crash. Irritation bloomed, replacing arousal; that had been a dirty trick! However, Ratchet's ankles were only inches from his optics as the medic stepped forward to help him up again.

He reached out, quick as a striking snake, and yanked Ratchet's foot upwards. At the same moment he shot to his feet, and drove his shoulder into Ratchet's abdominal plating. Ratchet went down hard, Soundwave on top of him. Soundwave had not let go of Ratchet's ankle, and now he used his grip on that leg, and his weight on Ratchet's torso, to pin the medic down. Ratchet thrashed for a minute, but couldn't free himself.

"That," Ratchet noted, giving up, "counts as a win."

Had they been alone, he might have molested the medic at that point, as anger and arousal mingled to provide him with aggressive desires. He was, however, aware that they had an audience. Perhaps it was fortuitous that others were watching; he didn't know how Ratchet would react to that.

Soundwave released him, experiencing a brief pang of worry as he did so. He'd won, but he wasn't sure now that he should have. How would Ratchet react when he was free?

Ratchet's laughter, rich and amused, reassured him of Ratchet's sane nature. The mech's chuckles were joined by applause from the doorway. Soundwave spun around to see that Jazz and Prowl were peering through the door, and Jazz was clapping.

While he was distracted, Ratchet knocked his feet out from underneath him again, and successfully pinned him face down on the rubber mat. Jazz's laughter was musical. Ratchet growled, "Give, you slagger!"

Responding by voice would take too long. He went totally limp, surrendering to the medic.

"Is beating on your patient part of your treatment plan now?" Prowl asked, When Soundwave risked a look in their direction, he saw that the supposedly emotionless tactician had a small smile playing around his lips.

"It's physical therapy. He needs to relearn how to balance with input from his proprioreception and visual sensors alone." Ratchet sat on the mat next to him, and patted Soundwave companionably on the shoulder. "He's doing pretty good."

"So ya knock him flat over and over again as a form of therapy?" Jazz sounded deeply amused.

"It's more fun this way." Ratchet poked Soundwave in the shoulder.

Prowl asked, "Soundwave? What do you think of this?"

"Sparring, Ratchet, enjoyable. Soundwave win, desired outcome." He sat up, since Ratchet wasn't holding him down anymore. "Self defense skills, appreciated."

"I'll bet," Jazz smirked. "Want t' go a round w' me?"

Soundwave hesitated, partly because he wasn't sure of what Jazz was saying - Jazz's assumed accent was giving his visor fits and it wasn't displaying complete words. He said, "Soundwave, comprehension English incomplete. Speculation: Jazz state desire to spar Soundwave?"

"You got it, big guy." Jazz stepped onto the mat, lithely graceful.

Ratchet, with an amused smirk, stepped back. Soundwave studied Jazz. He was well aware, from wartime personal experience, that taking the mech down was not as easy as it seemed. Jazz was a skilled fighter, and capable of defeating mechs many times his size. A thrill of anticipation ran through his circuits. He would lose, but it would be a true learning experience.

At that instant, the klaxons blared to life. All three Autobots tilted their heads to indicate they were listening to transmissions over comm frequencies. Then Prowl said, "Soundwave, please go to the brig."

"Prowl, I could use him in the med bay," Ratchet argued, resting a hand on Soundwave's arm. Soundwave hesitated, torn between immediate response to an order from a commanding officer, and the desire to stay at Ratchet's side. His immediate assumption was that the base was under attack.

Prowl held a hand up suddenly, and listened to a communication that Ratchet didn't have the codes for. Jazz did; the second in command's expression became a sudden, feral, grin.

Jazz purred, "Tell ma the truth, Soundwave. Do y' have any loyalty t' Starscream?"

He blinked behind his visor. "Loyalty Soundwave to Starscream nonexistent _before _defected to Autobots."

Behind his visor, Jazz's optic ridges rose. "You say you've defected, eh?"

He reconsidered the word he had chosen. Perhaps the connotation of the word he had chosen wasn't exactly correct, but it had to be close. He elaborated his reasoning and his decision, "Soundwave valued by Autobots. Death possible return Decepticons. Best survival chance become Autobot, help win war for Autobots.."

Ratchet's hand on his arm tightened. The medic looked up at him and said softly, "We'll talk about this more later, with Prime and the other officers. I'm glad to see you are considering joining us."

"Not considering." He'd mulled this over, very briefly, last night, and come to some inescapable conclusions. "Decision made. Only question, will Autobots accept. Understand time needed."

"Joinin' cuz we got the best odds o' survin' ain't the right reason," Jazz grumbled.

"Reasons, many. Survival one. Others exist."

Jazz's frown softened. "We'll talk about it later, man. For now - Ratchet, we'll need ya outside. Sounders, go t' Ratchet's quarters. One o' us'll retrieve you later, when it's all over but the bitchin'."

Prowl made a small, protesting noise. Jazz snorted. A silent - from Soundwave's perspective - debate took place between the two. Soundwave, who had no desire to be shut up in a cell, had time to say, "Soundwave, obey. Remain quarters. Query: Dismissed?"

Both commanders - and Ratchet - looked at him in surprise. Then, finally, Prowl nodded curtly. "Do not leave Ratchet's quarters. Frenzy will join you in a few minutes."

"Thank you. Frenzy, claustrophobic."

He turned to go, but Ratchet's hand on his arm stopped him. The medic looked up at him for a moment, then said, "I know I can trust you."

Still under the assumption that a battle was about to begin, Soundwave said, "Ratchet, please state of caution."

He had lost too many people in his life - symbionts, and the very few friends who'd earned his trust, and his bondmate. All he had in the universe were Frenzy and Ratchet. Losing Frenzy would be catastrophic. Losing Ratchet …

He couldn't imagine that. In such a short time, the medic had become the center of his universe. It was partly his hard coded programming, and partly utterly unexplainable. He could not completely decipher _why _he felt so drawn to Ratchet, only that he did.

Ratchet snorted. "I'm not stupid."

"Ya sure about that, Ratch?" Jazz grinned.

Ratchet cuffed Jazz upside the head, making Jazz skip belatedly backwards and Prowl roll his optics. A flurry of insults and teasing followed between the medic and Jazz as they headed down the corridor towards the exit. He watched, wishing he could go with them. Ratchet might require assistance, or protection.

Firmly, defying the emotions that howled in his spark, he told himself he didn't feel lonely or jealous. He was not afraid that Ratchet might prefer the company of his Autobot friends to his quiet, efficient servant. He didn't feel abandoned in this moment, or like an unloved sparkling sent to his room solely because company was coming. Perhaps, if he worked hard enough to earn their trust, they would cease to banish him with every crisis.

"Boss?" A small voice said by his knee. Frenzy, having approached silently, touched his knee. "You okay? You're radiating doom and gloom."

Frenzy's end of the bond was open wide, and his symbiont was full of concern, trust, love, and complete acceptance of whoever or whatever Soundwave was or would become. However, despite Frenzy's wholly unconditional love, he did not want to burden the little mech with his concerns.

"You love Ratchet, don't you?"

He started to compose a denial with his visor, but it was pointless and his response time too slow. Frenzy mentally nudged at Soundwave's end of the bond, tightly sealed to prevent inappropriate sharing with his symbiont. "C'mon boss, lying to me's harder'n lying to yourself."

"Emotions, unimportant. Soundwave serves. Frenzy, speak inappropriate topic."

Frenzy gave him a _look _that said he wasn't done with the discussion. However, he did fall uncharacteristically quiet as they walked to Ratchet's quarters. Uneasy with the silence, Soundwave struggled to encourage Frenzy to talk. "Frenzy, enjoy work here?"

That got him an unreadable look, and a shrug.

"Query: Disclose tasks assigned today?"

"The wash rack drain was plugged. I had the joyous task of unplugging it. I've already had a shower, before you ask."

"Olfactory sensors detect zero unusual odors," he reassured his symbiont.

Frenzy flashed him a smile. "You know, Rumble woulda said, 'I only smell his _usual _odors.'"

The mention of Rumble concerned him. Cautiously, he lowered the barriers to the bond between them. From Frenzy he could feel melancholy sadness, but also a certain degree of resigned acceptance. Frenzy was healing, though he would likely always carry scars in the form of deep regret and bitter loss.

However, now that he could feel more of Soundwave's mood, Frenzy's grin grew broader. "You're not all stressed out. That's great! And hey - my boyfriend's coming. You gonna be nice or does he need to stay out of smacking distance?"

"Steeljaw accepted."

"Yo! Frenzy!" Steeljaw appeared around a corner, and broke into a run down the hall towards them. "Wait up!"

Soundwave felt it as Frenzy's spark bloomed with joy. "Mouser! Figure'd you'd be off to fight!"

"Nah, it's not a battle." Steeljaw skidded to a halt next to them, and bumped Frenzy with his shoulder hard enough to make the smaller symbiont stagger. Not to be outdone, Frenzy retaliated with a finger poked hard into a sensitive spot. For a moment, the horse play between them resembled a battle within the corridor itself, though they quickly settled down when his mood turned disapproving and Frenzy sensed it. Both, however, had matching grins, and for the moment, Frenzy was thoroughly distracted from his grief.

Soundwave wondered why Steeljaw wasn't fighting with the rest of his team. He asked, "Query: Battle status Steeljaw?"

"Eh. Not today, it seems. I'm not sure what's going on. Prowl's got a squad on standby, but no combat." Steeljaw looked up at him, blue optics keen with intelligence. "Hey, Ratch said you're confined to quarters until the fuss is over. You two want some company?"

"Sure!" Frenzy enthusiastically spun around to favor Soundwave with his best pleading look. "Can he? Can he _please_?"

Soundwave hesitated, for two reasons. Firstly, it wasn't _really _his quarters. The suite belonged to Ratchet. Secondly, Steeljaw belonged to Blaster and he didn't want Blaster to think he was trying to steal his symbiont away. The truth was that he was growing quite fond of the young feline, and had Steeljaw been single or had he belonged to an unworthy carrier, Soundwave would have not hesitated to court him.

However, Blaster outranked him socially, was physically stronger, and more importantly, Steeljaw was clearly happy with his master. It wouldn't be good for Steeljaw to try to steal him away. The emotional trauma would be damaging no matter how carefully it was done, and Soundwave could never bring himself to harm a symbiont.

Steeljaw was smiling at him, gently and knowingly. "I have Blaster's permission, Soundwave."

"_Please _boss?"

"Ask Ratchet," he finally told Frenzy.

"Ratchet says they're our quarters too!" Frenzy's reaction was indignant, and instant.

"Ask Ratchet," he repeated, firmly.

Frenzy favored him with a scowl, but did as he asked. He reported, after a moment, "Ratch says it's fine, and he says he's got an X-box if we want to play games."

"Awesome." Steeljaw shoulder-bumped Frenzy again. Frenzy smacked him playfully.

Soundwave spat static. Both subsided, giving him sheepish looks. He said firmly, to Frenzy, "Name, _Ratchet_."

"Aww, everyone calls 'im Ratch."

"Yeah. Or Hatchet." Steeljaw agreed. "Though not 'Hatchet' to his face."

"I'd call him Hatchet." Frenzy poked Steeljaw with his elbow. "I can duck fast."

"You do, be sure to show me the video later." Steeljaw goosed Frenzy in the small of the back with the very tip of his tail. "You might be able to duck, but Ratchet's got scary-good aim."

Frenzy caught the end of Steeljaw's tail with a lightning-quick grab. Steeljaw grinned. "Ya got the big kitty by the tail. Now whatcha gonna do with …. ohhh."

Frenzy had pressed a kiss to the tail tip, then closed his lips around it. His eyes were only for Steeljaw, and he was ignoring Soundwave's firm disapproval. Steeljaw made a small mewling noise, eyes huge, clearly both surprised and interested in Frenzy's teasing actions.

Unfortunately, they were in one of the Ark's hallways. Soundwave finally reached down and gave Frenzy a small push of his own, separating him from Steeljaw. "Behavior, inappropriate public area."

Frenzy wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. He didn't sound very apologetic when he said, "Sorry, boss."

"Yeah, Frenzy. Inappropriate in public." Steeljaw's optics were bright with amusement. "But Ratchet's quarters are private …"

"Race you!" Frenzy challenged Steeljaw. He took off running, then, with Steeljaw in hot pursuit.

Soundwave followed at a more dignified pace. Frenzy had teased him about loving Ratchet. Perhaps that was true, but he would be foolish to expect the same sentiments from Ratchet. Ratchet liked him, certainly, and had been incredibly kind. Ratchet clearly enjoyed his company, and was also taking a personal interest in his welfare, but that wasn't _love_.

He told himself that it would be wrong to feel envy of his cassette, and that it was unrealistic to dream of Ratchet as anything more than a kind master with enjoyable 'benefits'. He told himself that he should expect Ratchet to socialize with his coworkers, and that it would be natural for Ratchet to exclude him. He told himself that to dream of anything more was simply foolish.

When he reached Ratchet's quarters the two symbionts had shut the door to the berth room, and Soundwave found himself alone in the living area. He didn't need a quantum bond with Frenzy to tell that he would be unwelcome in the back room; the giggles and muffled vocalizations audible through the door were clue enough.

Ratchet had a sound system, and a fairly sizable library of music popped up on the display when he turned it on. He had no way of reading the Cybertronian titles, and no desire to listen to simplistic human tunes. After a moment's hesitation, and prompted by a moan from Steeljaw, he tapped a Cybertronian file at random.

The music that soared from Ratchet's rather good speakers was from the Golden Age. He recognized it as a heroic ballad, and his memory provided the words. With a sigh, Soundwave sat down on the couch, told himself he didn't feel lonely, shuttered his optics, and let the music wash over him. He focused on it, rather than the excitement in Frenzy's spark, incompletly shielded, and the disturbing sound effects.

He had accepted Steeljaw's part in Frenzy's life, but he really could have done without knowing the details. After a moment, Soundwave turned the music up louder. It didn't really help, but it was better than nothing.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

An Adjustment of Plans

* * *

Author's notes: Sorry for the slow updates. My day job went nuts for a bit, and I've also got some medical issues that are slowing down my writing speed. I'm still writing, just not nearly as fast.

* * *

Soundwave had not had a sufficient period of recharge the evening before. With the berth room occupied, he dozed off on the couch. It was a long ingrained habit in him to catch recharge whenever possible when he was running short; most Cybertronian soldiers learned that skill or went insane from the lack of defrag and neural capacitor balancing.

However, when the berthroom door opened, he jolted awake. Just as he could recharge anywhere, under almost any conditions, anything unusual would cause him to swiftly reboot his higher functions. As soon as power reached his motor systems, a couple nanoclicks after his reboot sequence started, he jerked upright.

Steeljaw's optic ridges rose. "Jumpy, are we?"

He nodded curtly, and relaxed into the couch's firm cushions. The feline was no threat. If anything, Soundwave found him almost _too _friendly, and if he hadn't personally seen the damage Steeljaw could inflict in battle (and knew what Ravage could do), he'd have dismissed him as harmless.

"Frenzy's still out cold." Steeljaw hopped up on the couch next to Soundwave. He smirked. "Unlike you, I think it would take a stick of dynamite under his berth to wake him. I think he's in a deep-defrag cycle. He probably needs it, he's been going a mile a minute for weeks."

Steeljaw's assessment of Frenzy's lack of alertness during recharge was correct. Soundwave had tried to correct that problem a few times, and had consistently failed. Frenzy consistently recharged like he was in stasis lock. Soundwave suspected it was a form of escape from reality; sleeping like the dead allowed him to escape from his life for a period of time. Frenzy had been unhappy even before his siblings had died.

The cat added, as he made himself comfortable on the couch, "I love him dearly, but is he always so hyper? I've been burning twice the energon as usual just keeping up with him!"

Soundwave, had he been a different mech, might have observed that certain activities burnt more fuel than others. "Autobots, fortunate. Fuel rationing limit activity Decepticon forces."

The cat snorted. "It's not luck, Soundwave. We earn our resources from humans rather than stealing. All Megatron has to do is make peace with Optimus and agree to some honest work, and the Decepticons would have ample fuel. Megatron's obsession with _stealing _what could be honestly earned for less effort, and with far less damage and risk, has never made much sense to me."

He ran a hand over his face. "War, more logical beginning. Now, war continues Megatron never believe Optimus honest peace treaty. Megatron fear imprison, enslave, execution. Others, feel same. Soundwave ... feared same."

"You're not still worried about that, are you?" Concerned crystal blue optics widened. Steeljaw leaned forward and rested a hand on his arm. "Nobody's going to hurt you here. Do not forget that Optimus _Prime _is our leader, and he adheres strictly to the teachings of Primus. Primus doesn't teach revenge, only redemption and forgiveness."

"Ratchet, defend." He let himself smirk, though the cat couldn't see it. He'd trust Ratchet's throwing arm a lot quicker than he'd trust the faithfulness of Optimus's followers when Optimus was out of sight."Ratchet, temper formidable. Soundwave feel safe."

Steeljaw chuckled lowly, keeping his voice down so as to not wake Frenzy. "Yeah, Ratchet's definitely an alpha mech. You made a good choice in choosing him to serve, by the way."

He blinked, then realized that other symbionts and carriers would know _exactly _what he had done when he'd chosen Ratchet. His motivations would be transparent to them. He smiled again in the secrecy of his mask, then said, "More than one concideration, choosing Ratchet."

"I don't doubt it." The cat laughed again, and somehow moved a little closer as he did. "He's a bit tall for me, but I get the appeal. On the other hand, Frenzy really is more my type - it's not often that I find a mech who's my equal in the smarts department. He's always _thinking_, always _doing_. I like that."

"Frenzy distracting himself with busy." He tried not to show his unease at Steeljaw's close proximity. His imagination provided a too-realistic image of Blaster bursting into the room and launching into an attack in Steeljaw's defense. Even the most rational carriers could be blindly aggressive if they caught another carrier courting one of their symbionts. It really wasn't appropriate for him to be talking to Steeljaw without another mech present.

"Yes." Steeljaw inspected the claws of one hand. "Soundwave, I don't know if the relationship I have with Frenzy will survive when he begins to really heal. He won't need _me _as a distraction anymore. But if it does ... if I'm more than just a distraction to him, I want this to work out. I'm thinking in the long term. I thought you should know that, so you know that my feelings towards him are not entirely casual."

Soundwave's sigh silenced Steeljaw. He held a hand up in a 'stop' gesture while he put together a response. Steeljaw waited patiently. After a few seconds he said, "Frenzy love Steeljaw. Was distraction. More, now. Frenzy see Steeljaw Frenzy have joy, excitement. _Love_."

The feline blinked at him for a moment. Then he said, softly, hesitantly, "Are you okay with us? You weren't real happy in the beginning."

One paw, modified to have fingers, rested on his knee. He tensed further, very uncomfortable with the contact. Before he could ask Steeljaw to back off, however, Steeljaw looked up at him and added, "I'm not going to take him away from you. Both of you love each other too much. Whatever happens ... it won't involve Frenzy _leaving _you."

"Difficult politics." He sat perfectly still, not wanting to upset the symbiont by pushing him away, but also not wanting to encourage his proximity. "Autobot, Decepticons, lack trust. Steeljaw, lose status, rank, security clearance, due to Frenzy. Steeljaw accept consequences?"

Steeljaw huffed a sigh. "If we merged, it would compromise not just me, but potentially my whole team. I'd be in a spot of trouble over it, and Blaster'd _tell _on me. I wouldn't do it because it would be wrong, but I couldn't get away with it if I wanted to try, anway. And ... and bonding is out of the question. A bonded team has the security clearance of the lowest ranked member. Frenzy would be bonded to me, which would bring my clearance down, which would bring my team's down."

"Query: Want merge?"

Steeljaw shrugged helplessly. "In our dreams."

He regarded the cat in silence as he tried to find a way to tell him what he was feeling. Steeljaw was everything he could want for Frenzy, and then some. He'd quietly despaired of his symbionts ever finding mates. He found it ironic that Frenzy had found someone now, among the Autobots, who was so very _perfect_.

Steeljaw added, "Oh, and yeah, I'm getting a little flack over my new little buddy. However, most've the crew thinks he's just a tagalong who's monopolizing my time and being inappropriately clingy because they can't imagine I'd _want _a scrawny, scrappy Decepticon runt as a friend. It hasn't even occurred to most of them that Frenzy, or _anybody_, would be interested in me as a lover."

His words held a bitter tone, and his blue optics darkened with old anger. "Frenzy doesn't see me as anything but _me_."

"Ravage: highly intelligent. Frenzy brother Ravage, comprehension Ravage not beast. Frenzy know Steeljaw spark same others."

"Yup. Frenzy says if he'd ever treated Ravage like an animal, Ravage would have bit him."

"Truth, yes." Soundwave smiled faintly, experiencing both a wave of fondness and a bitter stab of grief at the thought of his late feline symbiont. Ravage had been so close to his spark; his eldest, his first symbiont, and one who many others in his community had dismissed as useless and dangerously rebellious. He'd befriended Ravage, earned his respect, and loyalty, and eventually Ravage had _chosen _of his own free will to bond with a Soundwave. Soundwave, at the time, had been a youngling, not yet grown into his adult frame, and not yet considered an adult.

Courting Ravage had been partly an attempt to prove himself, and partly real recognition of Ravage's potential. He had feared that the cat would either be killed as a threat, or captured for the gladiator pits. He had not had time to befriend Ravage and then wait, given his clan's hostility towards the feral symbiont.

However, his hopes of impressing his clan had been dashed. When he had brought Ravage home, he had been mocked, criticized, and ostracized. By custom, he had been too young to bond - particularly to such a dangerous symbiont as a felinoid - and many feared that he would not be able to control the dangerous mech. He had expected them to see him as courageous and skilled, and possessed of the personal attributes necessary to be a master carrier. Instead, his own clan had accused him of vanity and recklessness.

Ravage, of course, had found their concerns - that he might harm someone, and that he was useless - amusing. The only one controlling Ravage had been Ravage himself. He had chosen to submit to Soundwave out of respect, and recognition of the young carrier's potential. Ravage had been _older _than Soundwave by a considerable amount, Soundwave had been his fourth master, and he had known exactly what he wanted and what role he wished to play in Soundwave's life. He'd sized up the rest of Soundwave's clan, watched them with mute interest for a few days, and then Ravage had suggested that Soundwave might find higher education more enjoyable.

Ravage had been unique, and Soundwave, in a bitter moment of stark loneliness, realized that he would never hear Ravage's sarcastic comments or rely upon the experienced feline's talents at scouting and subterfuge again.

Unexpectedly, Steeljaw pressed himself into Soundwave's arms. The sudden touch jolted him back into the present.

Ravage had never been _cuddly_, but Steeljaw reacted on instinct, wrapping his arms around the young mech, holding him tight and close. Aside from Steeljaw's metallic "lion's mane" that hid a plethora of sensors, his frame type was very similar to Ravage. The contact enhanced Soundwave's sudden, unexpected outbreak of grief. If he closed his eyes, and ignored the silent, aching hole in his spark where once there had been snark, wisdom, and experience, it was almost as if he was holding Ravage again.

Steeljaw was the same shape, and he sounded and smelled the same. It was truly possible that he was even kin to Ravage; felinoids had never been common.

He refused to cry. The upwelling of grief was unexpected, unwanted, and almost startling in its suddenness. He didn't understand why he was suddenly so overwhelmed with loss. He couldn't help an irregular stutter in his systems as the strong emotions in his spark activated defensive routines that he ruthlessly terminated. He didn't need his nonexistent weapons to come online, or extra power to his hydraulics and servomotors.

He stroked Steeljaw's side, wishing it was Ravage under his hand. Ravage, who would have submitted to such an embrace with a good deal of grumbling and indignation. Soundwave had always respected Ravage's dislike for close contact. His siblings, on the other hand, sometimes tackled him simply to piss him off.

Steeljaw said quietly, "I will be your friend."

He blinked, and looked down at the symbiont in his arms. Primus, this was inappropriate. "Blaster, disapprove."

"Blaster is not you, and he will be neither jealous nor worried about losing me." Steeljaw relaxed into Soundwave's lap, calm and collected, when Soundwave released him.

He said, after a moment in nonplussed silence, "Steeljaw, perhaps kin someday. Permission given, if Frenzy desires permanence with Steeljaw, when allowed."

He had no qualms about the match.

"Thank you." Steeljaw tilted his head sideways, then added, with a low chuckle that shook his frame, "Blaster says to tell you that if I'm going to get snuggly with you, to tell you to take the damned Decepticon sigil off."

Soundwave lifted his hands off Soundwave's side like he'd been stung by an electrical shock. Only the fact that he didn't want to be rude to the young feline kept him from dumping Steeljaw onto the ground. "Query: Blaster aware?"

"That I'm sitting in your lap and enjoying your company? Oh, yeah." Steeljaw wriggled a bit to take better advantage of the warm draft from Soundwave's power plant. "He's pleased. He was concerned you would object to me and Frenzy, and he was afraid I'd get my spark shattered if that was the case. Frenzy whould choose you if you forced him to chose, then hate you for it."

Slowly, he stroked the cat again. "Soundwave, desire no conflict Blaster."

"Blaster says it's all good." Steeljaw poked the Decepticon emblem. "So when are you taking this off? Or are you going to hold onto it for sentimental reasons?"

"Removal, anticipated. Time, occupied."

"Frenzy's told me how you're occupying your time ..."

His systems stalled in embarassment. Of course, Frenzy was more than aware that Soundwave had been intimate with Ratchet, but that didn't mean he liked being teased. At his core, Soundwave was a private mech.

"... relax, big guy. I'm just giving you a hard time. Would you like help getting it off, though, since you don't have anything to do now?"

He considered the offer.

"Affirmative," he finally said. It was, he thought, time.

* * *

Frenzy woke slowly, processor coming online in stages. Half-conscious, he monitored his systems as they reported their status. For the first time in as long as he could remember, every system he possesed reported green. The deep defrag had cleaned up some filing errors, organized his memories, and streamlined a number of processes that had become bloated with auto-rewrites of minor routines. His mind felt as clear as his body was in good repair.

Slowly, he sat up. For the first time, he didn't automatically try to ping his siblings to check their status as part of his boot routine. When he realized that the defrag cycle had deleted that step, he sat for a moment in mute confusion, unsure of what his reaction should be. Should he still grieve what he had lost? Should he feel relief that he would no longer be reminded with every waking of the aching hole in his spark? Should he reinstate that step to honor them? He did not want to _forget _them.

Soundwave's laughter, low, mechanical, and so rarely heard, distracted him. He hopped off the berth, expecting that Ratchet had returned, but instead, he found Soundwave sitting in an incredibly casual, relaxed position on the floor, one knee drawn up to his chest and the other leg stretched out. He was casually talking to Steeljaw, and by both his posture and the feelings coming from his spark, Soundwave was enjoying the conversation.

He stopped short in disbelief as he registered the entire scene. Steeljaw was sprawled out to his full length on the couch, a grin on his face, and complete trust in his posture. That mirrored the calm feel from Soundwave.

He wasn't sure what Steeljaw had said to make Soundwave laugh. In his entire life, he'd _never _heard Soundwave laugh at something another mech who was not his symbiont had said, aside from lovers. Fairwinds could make him laugh even before they had bonded, and Ratchet seemed to have the talent. That _Steeljaw _could make Soundwave laugh made Frenzy wonder if something had gone wrong with Soundwave's code.

It got worse. Soundwave reached out as soon as he was within grabbing range, and with little regard for his dignity or their mutual dislike of touchy-feely behavior, pulled Frenzy into his lap. Frenzy protested, "Hey! Are you glitched?" as Soundwave gave him a quick, affectionate hug.

He escaped, mildly offended, and glared at his master from several feet away. "What prompted _that_?"

Soundwave and Steeljaw traded a look between them. Steeljaw giggled. Soundwave's chuckle again startled Frenzy, who stared at his master. Frenzy's reality had just broken.

_:My fault, lover. I had wondered what would happen if he hugged you the way Blaster hugs us.:_

_:And he decided to find out.: _Frenzy wondered if he should summon Ratchet. Something _had _to be wrong with the way that Soundwave was processing data. This was incredibly unusual behavior for Soundwave.

_:Well, we were talking about what we were like before the war. Maybe he decided to try out being his old self for a bit.:_

Ah. That was enlightening. Frenzy grinned. "I could tell them about the time you and Lady Fairwinds both got drunk and ..."

Soundwave spat static at him, alarm spiking across the bond.

_:Oh, you'll have to gossip later.: _Steeljaw laughed at Soundwave's reaction, which was reflected by Frenzy's expression.

_:Yeah, not now, though. He'd probably ground me.:_

Steeljaw's laughter across the bond was rich and deeply amused. _:You're a bit old for grounding, Sweetspark.:_

_:Don't call me that. And don't bet on it. One of Soundwave's favorite punishments is restriction to quarters, at least for me.:_

Steeljaw smirked at him. _:I don't think I've ever torqued Blaster off to the point where he felt like he had to punish me. Eject, on the other hand ... well, let's just say Eject's usual crime is teasing the rest of us, and Blaster's usual punishment is to hand him a jar of wax and tell him to polish whoever he upset.:_

_:Doesn't he get mad if you prank someone?:_

_:Who, my master? He's usually plotting right along with us. He and Jazz have had a prank war going for millenia.:_

_:That's it. I'm officially jealous of you.:_

_:Don't be. Soundwave and Blaster are two very different mechs, but Soundwave loves you, Frenzy. How come you don't like snuggling with him?:_

_:I do, sometimes.: _He frowned, looking up at Soundwave, who'd gone all stiff and dignified and looked like he was about to rise. _:I mean, at night, or if something really bad happened, but ... but it's _Soundwave_. He's not like that. _He's _not touchy-feely.:_

_:I know I've seen him pat Ravage or Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. Pit, I watched him for several hours one day. He was spying on the base, on his stomach on a ridge, and I was spyin' on him. He had Ravage with him and Ravage curled against him the whole time.:_

_:Eh. That's different.:_

_:He just snuggled you, kiddo. You got a good opening, there. It's just you and him now. Both of you are programmed to need the contact.: _Steeljaw added, mirth bubbling up in his voice, _:Good chance to screw with his mind, too, you know.:_

Frenzy, bemused, turned his attention back to Soundwave. His master was reaching for his cane now, obviously intent on getting up. Without warning, Frenzy launched himself at Soundwave, threw his arms around Soundwave's neck, and babbled, "Master, I wuv you, I wuv you so much, I wuv you forever, you're the bestest master ever, I wuv you!"

Behind him, Steeljaw was laughing so hard that he sounded as if he were choking. Soundwave, by contrast, froze in disbelief. He grabbed Frenzy with both hands, pulled Frenzy free of his neck, and held Frenzy out at arm's length with a hand around his chest. "Behavior, undignified. Cease immediately."

Frenzy smirked at him.

After a moment, Soundwave _laughed_. "Motivation, understood."

Instead of putting Frenzy down, however, Soundwave deposited him in his lap. Frenzy, surprised that he'd been able to get Soundwave to laugh, looked up at him.

Soundwave stroked his back, in a way that was dignified rather than cuddly. He patted Frenzy on the shoulder twice, casually, then leaned back against the couch, giving Frenzy the option of leaving or staying put.

Frenzy sighed, and relaxed against Soundwave's torso. It felt good to sit in physical contact with him, really. His field automatically started to synch up, and his programming gave him a yes/no option of initiating docking protocols. _No, _he shut that down ruthlessly. Even thinking of transforming and docking with Soundwave felt claustrophobic when it had always been comforting before.

Unexpectedly, Soundwave said, "Miss youngling twins."

Not just _miss Rumble_, Frenzy knew intuitively, but he was trying to say he missed that long-ago time when he and Rumble had been barely more than sparklings. Being bonded with Soundwave was excellent help in interpreting Soundwave's speech. Frenzy sighed. "Ain't been a kid for a long time, boss."

"Understand."

"I miss me as a kid too, though."

Primus, now he was in a gloomy mood.

Soundwave patted his back again. "Frenzy, Soundwave, remain Ark. Live here now. Promise, better life, Frenzy."

"Wish my brother was here." He turned his optics off, and hunched down a bit. It felt like a small, mean, evil thing to say when Soundwave was trying to cheer him up, but the sudden feeling of grief seized his spark and suddenly all he could think of was the awful aching empty _hole _in his spark.

Soundwave grew very still. However, he heard a few clacks of armor against armor, the hum of motors, and the hiss of hydraulics as Steeljaw rose from his position on the couch. Moments later, his lover pressed against him, and Soundwave draped an arm around both of them. Soundwave's fingers slid over Frenzy's plating, stroking and patting; soothing him gently.

_:I love you, Sweetspark.: _Steeljaw said, quietly.

_:Back at ya. And ... I don't ... I don't know where the emo came from.:_

_:Soundwave did the same thing earlier. You're probably feeding off each other. Which is fine - better that, than mourning entirely alone.:_

_:I don't know how you stood it. Losing your entire family.: _He winced at the reminder of what Steeljaw had survived.

_:It got a lot better when I met Blaster, I'll give you that.: '_

He couldn't deal with this, not right now. He could also feel the creeping unease coming from Soundwave. Both of them had probably had about as much angst as they could stand for the moment.

"Boss," Frenzy said, in a small voice, "Care if I turn on the TV? This is just ... it's too much."

Soundwave nodded assent. Frenzy turned the TV with a burst of radio waves, expecting to find a selection of early afternoon talk shows. It was too early for good cartoons.

However, the first channel that came up had a reporter talking to a camera about the 'vast battle' between 'alien robots' in Los Angeles.

"You know, if there's a vast alien robot battle going on, standing on the top of a skyscraper in the middle of a city is dumb," Steeljaw said, sitting up. The reporter had LA behind him, as seen from a high vantage point - probably a building.

_:How come Optimus hasn't had you guys roll out already?: _Frenzy said.

_:It's all over but the talking heads.: _Steeljaw grinned. _:Though the reporter's still being dumb.: _

"You slagger, you knew what was going on." Frenzy punched him in the shoulder.

"Blaster's with Skyfire and Optimus. They're monitoring 'con communications." Steeljaw shrugged. "Not supposed to talk about it until it's over. Sorry, guys."

"What the hell's Megatron doing, anyway?" Frenzy scowled at the TV, as it replayed a clip of Megatron, on foot, running down a busy street and scattering cars as he did. Astrotrain was chasing after him; Frenzy assumed that they were charging towards combat, or fleeing Autobots, at first.

Then Megatron tripped over a hot dog cart, and fell hard. He rolled, arm transforming into his plasma rifle. Astrotrain kicked the gun arm _hard_, and even though the audio was tinny they heard a distinct _crack _of breaking parts. The big triplechanger stomped hard on Megatron's arm, pinning it down, then slammed his other foot into Megatron's face.

"It probably wouldn't be revealing anything now to tell you that there's been a coup."

"Megatron, dead?" Soundwave asked, as fascinated by the images as they were.

"Eh. We don't know ..." Steeljaw explained as the video suddenly quit, with a hard jerk of the camera, and the ending of the fight wasn't shown. "... They're trying to figure it out. And by 'they' I mean Starscream and the human authorities _and _Prime."

Frenzy snorted. "Always figured it'd be Screamer who'd kill him, finally."

"Starscream, predictable adversary. Megatron, on guard. Astrotrain, arrogant, angry, also possible. Astrotrain, underestimated."

"You think Astrotrain will end up leading them?" Frenzy asked.

Soundwave considered the question seriously for a moment, then said, "Low probability. Insufficient support, poor leader."

He was right, too, Frenzy thought.

The next video shown was of Starscream shooting Motormaster point blank in the chest in the middle of a freeway. The large mech went down with a ground-shaking _crash_, and all three mechs winced.

"_Primus_!" Steeljaw had lunged to his feet in reaction to the raw violence between 'cons.

"I think you can revise those odds to zero, boss." Frenzy, less surprised, though a bit sickened. He was fairly certain Motormaster would have sided with Astrotrain. "Wonder how many 'cons will be left?"

He felt a swirl of regret from Soundwave. "Deaths, preventable."

"If you were there? Sure. You'd have put down any rebellion before it got beyond the drinking and grumbling phase." Frenzy sighed. "War'll be over now, though."

"Cost, high." Soundwave fell into gloomy silence. Frenzy could feel that he was angry, frustrated, and thinking hard.

_:You losin' friends, lover?: _Steeljaw gave Frenzy a keen glance.

_:Motornaster was a pig.:_

_:Known a few pigs I liked despite themselves.: _Steeljaw rubbed his back.

"I just want it all to be over." He tucked his knees to his chest, still seated in Soundwave's lap. Soundwave patted his arm. Steeljaw stroked up and down the nape of his neck, in a quiet, comforting touch. Both of them seemed worried about him, which was confusing, and almost unwanted. For some reason, he'd become the center of attention. And, quite honestly, he just wanted it to be _over_.

Soundwave sighed, finally, "Steeljaw, contact Blaster. State: Soundwave desires assist situation resolution. Request message to Prime."

"Yes sir," Steeljaw rested his chin on Frenzy's shoulder as he communicated with his master. He grimaced. "Soundwave, Prowl says to stay put."

Frenzy felt a stubborn flash of irritation from Soundwave. "State: Soundwave talk Starscream. Starscream, preferred leader. Alternatives, worse. Arrange support, Starscream by Autobots. Request message Prime, Prowl."

"Blaster says they ain't happy to be interrupted." Steeljaw shifted, leaning a little to lean against Soundwave. "I know you want to help, but ..."

"Not want. _Can_."

"Starscream hates Soundwave," Frenzy explained, "But he trusts his word. Soundwave never lies, he just says things Starscream doesn't want to hear and he was Megatron's favorite."

"Steeljaw, ask Blaster tell _Ratchet_."

"Ooooh, boy." Steeljaw reported, after a moment. "Ratchet's _pissed_."

Soundwave said, clearly alarmed, "Intent, upset Ratchet, unintended ..."

"Not at you, at Prowl and Prime. Blaster says he hasn't seen Ratchet yell at Prowl like that in millenia."

A few seconds later, the television flickered, went black, then came back online to reveal a rather irritated Prowl. "Ratchet informs me you are aware of the situation in California."

"It's on TV!" Frenzy, a little alarmed by Prowl's glare, explained quickly. "We were watching the news!"

"Soundwave, what do you think _you _can accomplish?" Prowl demanded, with deep skepticism and real irritation in his voice.

"Desired outcome: Starscream lead. Correct?" Soundwave's assessment likely coincided with the Autobot analysis that Starscream would be the best commander to deal with after the shooting stopped. He was ruthless enough to keep his side in check, and would most likely to negotiate a truce in good faith, as long as he was able to keep some power for himself.

"Hnh. We're not even sure he's alive."

"Starscream, answer Soundwave radio him."

"Hmph." Prowl folded his arms. "Go on."

"Suggestion: Soundwave liason Starscream, Autobots assist Starscream, Starscream faction win. Alternatives, less desirable."

"How do I know you're on our side?"

"Oh, puleeeze." Frenzy answered that for Soundwave. "Seriously, Prowl? Does it even matter? He's offering to arbitrate, not be a top secret double agent."

From somewhere off screen he heard Red Alert mutter something about Frenzy knowing words bigger than he was. Frenzy ignored that, for the moment, though he was sorely tempted to reply with multi-syllabic insult accompanied by a silent finger the next time he saw the mech. Why did everything think he was a _dumb _punk? Soundwave didn't tolerate stupid.

"Sorry," Red muttered to someone, half a click later. Red's channel went silent.

"Starscream and Soundwave have never been allies," Prime said, stepping into the range of the camera. That solved the mystery of who had taken offense at Red's comment, Frenzy thought, with glee. Prime continued, "Soundwave, are you certain he would listen to you?"

"Affirmative."

"Yeah," Frenzy elaborated, taking over. Soundwave would struggle with this sort of conversation. "Starscream's a glitch and a half, but he's not _stupid_. You gotta remember that Soundwave's got a long history of being _right_, and he's no liar. Starscream'll listen."

"Very well. Skyfire will pick you up shortly. And Soundwave, Frenzy - thank you." Prime inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I am pleased by your willingness to assist."

Soundwave nodded once. "War, end, desired outcome possible. Soundwave, assist."

Skyfire was half an hour out, and Soundwave was rapidly putting together a plan while they waited. He would need to _appear _to have far better communication skills than he did to keep Starscream's respect. In the future, he might have coding added to his visor to correct his bad grammar in English, but right now he needed the semblance of being fluent in Cybertronian.

Unfortunately, the simple fact was that would never again be able to speak Cybertronian. However, Soundwave was a team player, created and coded to work in close partnership with others. Moreover, he had absolute trust in Frenzy and a very good idea of his abilities. Frenzy was an excellent warrior and spy, but Soundwave had also knew he had a keen mind and decent acting ability.

He calculated the odds of being able to fool Starscream with a quick hack of his visor and some clever acting on Frenzy's part at about 94.5%. To make it work, he just needed a few modifications to his visor done before they left. There wasn't much time, but he thought it would be sufficient.

Frenzy and Steeljaw were comming each other. It didn't appear to be a serious conversation; the two had a playful dynamic, and Soundwave suspected that half their communication consisted of insults and teasing pet names. This pleased him. Frenzy needed a partner who could give as good as he got.

He made a brief burst of static to draw their attention, then said, "Modify visor, immediate. Need assistance."

"Whatcha got in mind, boss?" Frenzy pushed himself out of Soundwave's lap and pulled a tool kit and a datapad out of his subspace.

"We don't really have a lot of time here," Steeljaw cautioned. "And we don't have a replacement if we break it."

"Then we don't break his visor." Frenzy scrambled up onto the dining table, sat down crosslegged, and opened the metal tool case.

"Soundwave agree. Damage undesirable."

Steeljaw snorted a laugh. Frenzy grinned.

"Goal: Soundwave appear complete repair."

"How ya gonna do _that, _boss?" Frenzy demanded, skeptically. "No offense, but you're still talking in word salad. In English. What happens the moment Screamer switches to Cybertronian?"

"Assistance, required. Translation, required."

"Heh. Your word salad's gonna sound like it's been thrown in a blender if we try to translate it into Cybertronian. Seriously, boss. I'm good. I'm not _that _good."

"Frenzy, translate."

"You mean on the fly?" Frenzy said, alarm clearly thrilling through him if his widened optics were any indicaton.

"Affirmative."

He took a nervous step backwards. "I ... I can't ..."

Another step and he bumped into Steeljaw's forehead. "Frenzy? What's wrong?"

"It'd have to be a hard connection ... docked, y'know ... or it'd be detectable."

Steeljaw rose up onto his hind legs and rested his forearms on Frenzy's shoulders. Frenzy leaned back against him, shuddering, optics closing, head bumping against Steeljaw's throat. His close presence seemed to somehow ground Frenzy, to give him stability and strength.

"Docking, required," Soundwave confirmed, arms folded across his chest. "Frenzy, _will_."

"No!"Frenzy wailed, panic rising again.

"I've got a better idea, anyway." Steeljaw sat down on his haunches, still resting his forelegs on Frenzy's shoulders. He pulled Frenzy back against him, forelegs holding Frenzy close in a tight embrace. Soundwave relaxed even as Frenzy's panic dialed back a few notches. He was slowly realizing that when he'd been bonded to six symbionts, the emotional state of one had been less significant. Frenzy was his only cassette now, and his moods loomed larger in Soundwave's spark.

However, Steeljaw seemed to have the knack to calm Frenzy that few did. Yes, he thought, Steeljaw would be very good for Frenzy. Relief flooded his spark at the realization that Frenzy had met someone who would treat him right, who grounded him, and who would care for him even if Soundwave was gone.

Frenzy looked at him curiously, clearly detecting his change of mood. He nodded once, wishing he could convey the reasons for his relief and his approval privately. He resolved to sit down with Frenzy and make some concrete plans as soon as he could. He would talk to Frenzy about becoming an Autobot and about ways to solidify ties with both Steeljaw, and his siblings. It would be a long, hard road for them before they could bond, but he approved of the match and it would be worth the work.

However, the immediate issue was reassuring Frenzy. He reached out and rested a hand on Frenzy's arm. "Soundwave, protect Frenzy. Dock, remain closed, always. Open only in secure location. Understand?"

"It's not that, boss. It's just ... it's just that I see ... I see _it. _When they died."

"Soundwave," Steeljaw said, slowly, "May I make a proposal?"

"Soundwave prefer wedding proposal Steeljaw to Frenzy," he said, trusting Frenzy to laugh.

Frenzy did, and also swatted at him. "Boss? Puns do not suit you."

"He's definitely picking up a pretty good English vocabulary, though," Steeljaw was grinning openly, displaying a mouthful of teeth.

"Aaaanyway, it's too soon to worry about that." He now had a disturbing image of both of them wearing human wedding finery. He _refused _to be the girl, but Steeljaw in a dress and veil was just plain disturbing.

"Maybe someday." Soundwave promised this and backed it up with a fully open bond that let Frenzy see his warm feelings for Steeljaw.

"Okaaaaaaay." Frenzy shot him a surprised look, eyes widening. Then he turned his atteniton to Steeljaw and said, "You had an idea?"

"Simple enough - Soundwave, if you have no objection, I don't mind docking with you. I'd have a hardline connection to your visor and a quantum bond with Blaster. It will make undectable communication with Autobot command easy, and it will reassure Autobot command of your intentions and behavior."

Soundwave tilted his head a little to the side. He had no issue with the idea; the primary problems with the idea were cultural. From a practical standpoint, it would work. However, he noted, "Blaster, object."

_He _would object, strongly, if Frenzy tried to dock with Blaster. He couldn't imagine Blaster being any more thrilled with the idea.

"Prowl will approve." Steeljaw shrugged. "Blaster's just worried for my safety, and this is worth the risk. I understand you want Frenzy to translate Cybertronian to English words and transmit them to your visor, then translate your response to Cybertronian and speak through your vocalizer for you? Is that what you're thinking?"

"Affirmative."

"The hacks to do that will be easy. You willing to work with me instead?"

Frenzy slid down to sit at Steeljaw's feet. He felt useless, weak, like a failure. He'd let Soundwave down. It wasn't right that Steeljaw should take his place. He buried his face in his hands, mind swirling with half-completed thoughts that terminated before they reached conclusions. He didn't know what to think, or how to respond to this.

Steeljaw dropped down to all fours and pressed against his back, comfortingly. "It's okay, kiddo. You've been through hell and back in the last month. Let me take this mission. It'll be okay, I promise."

Soundwave added, "Steeljaw talk Autobot officers during negotiations. Useful."

"What about your limp, boss?" Frenzy pointed out the obvious. Soundwave's structural repairs were perfect, but his sensory feedback was screwed. While he could walk without his cane now, he still had an obviously uneven gait. It looked like damage to his leg unless one took a scan and had the time to track down the source of the problem.

"Explanation Starscream: Autobot repairs inferior." Soundwave squared his shoulders and stood straight. "Soundwave, functional."

Steeljaw snickered. "Don't let Ratchet hear you calling his repairs inferior."

"Affirmative." Soundwave nodded, definitely agreeing with that sentiment. "Ratchet mood positive, preferred."

"You said it, buddy." Steeljaw turned Frenzy around with a gentle tug. "Sweetspark, can you handle the mods he needs to his visor? I'll get 'Jack to give me a quick mod so I can jack into his visor while docked with him."

Frenzy hesitated. This felt wrong. He should not be letting Steeljaw take his place. For both Steeljaw and Soundwave, what they were considering was taboo. While an unbonded symbiont might occasionally dock with a carrier, a bonded symbiont _never _docked with a carrier who was not his own.

He asked, tentatively and knowing he was searching for an excuse to object, _:Is Blaster really okay with this?:_

_:He's okay. I cleared it with him before I suggested it to Soundwave. Blaster'n I trust each other, Sweetspark. This is just business.:_

Frenzy contemplated Soundwave's reaction if he docked with Blaster 'for business' and decided the reaction didn't bear thinking about. If Soundwave didn't implode from jealousy, he'd go catatonic from self doubt.

Steeljaw met Frenzy's gaze with a level, even look. "You know, this would be easier to do with a partner. It's going to take a _lot _of processor prower to translate Cybertronian into English, then I will have to translate his response back into Cybertronian, and do it instantly, real time. _And _I have to sound like him when I respond - Soundwave's use of language wasn't exactly standard to start with."

Soundwave made a noise something like an indignant cough at the reference to 'non-standard use of language.' Frenzy barely kept from laughing. Soundwave was - had been - fluent in scores of languages. He simply preferred to use the least number of words possible to get his point across when dealing with mechs he disliked. The less he had to communicate with them, the better, as far as Soundwave was concerned.

Frenzy looked up at Soundwave, and knew that Soundwave was disappointed in him. He had let fear overwhelm him, when he was more than capable of doing what Soundwave asked. Steeljaw was giving him an opening to work _with _him rather than work entirely alone.

A visceral memory of the blast, of the _loss_, rocketed through his mind. He'd been close enough to see into Soundwave's open docks, to see his siblings each nestled side by side with one space left for him, and he'd already initiated the first stages of transformation. A moment later, he would have been home, in Soundwave's chest.

Instead, right in front of his eyes, there had been a blinding flash, an _impact _from the shock wave that he'd felt as clearly as if he'd been hit by a solid object, and deafening noise, and a rain of debris - body parts from Soundwave and his sibs - and fluids and ... and the absolute knowledge that they were _dead_. Shattering, echoing, instantaneous loss. He'd offlined in shock.

He terminated the memory file ruthlessly, not wanting to relive that moment over and over. It would play again and again if he dwelled on it. It was better to distract himself.

"Think you'd be okay if I'm in the slot next to you?" Steeljaw asked, lowering his head to nudge Frenzy in the chest. Pleading blue eyes looked up at him, and he realized that, however brave Steeljaw was, the thought of docking with a former 'con and working _alone _with said 'con in a potentially hostile environment had him unnerved. It was taboo from a cultural standpoint, and it was also intimate on a level normal mechs could never appreciate.

Steeljaw would never admit to being nervous, but Frenzy could hear the faintest quaver in his voice. That, somehow, made his guilt even worse. Steeljaw was willing to fight through his fear even when Frenzy was too paralyzed with shock.

_No. _He would _not _be okay. He wanted to literally flee from this discussion. His fans whirred to life as his fight or flight subroutines activated. However, Steeljaw's optics were brilliant, full of affection, trust, and understanding. He didn't want to let Steeljaw down. Also, he refused to let the slagger get one up on him. If Steeljaw could dock with a former Decepticon, he could damn well dock with the same former 'con. For Primus's sake, Soundwave was his beloved master. Soundwave was virtually a stranger to Steeljaw.

"Yeah, I guess. I'll ... try." Slaggit, he couldn't keep the quaver out of his voice.

_:Of course, we could just leave you home. I think Ratchet has a Netflix subscription.:: _Steeljaw sounded almost teasing as he switched to a private comm channel.

_:Primus, no.: _He hadn't even thought that far. He would go nuts if they were having all the fun while he got to sit home in Ratchet's quarters.

"Good." Steeljaw leaned into him for one last hug. "I know this is hard for you, Runt. Bad memories. Both of us'll back you up, mm? You _can _do this, with our help."

Soundwave added, "Frenzy succeed. Stubborn, conquer fear."

"Oh, great, now I've got my own personal cheerleaders." Frenzy scowled.

"I'm not a cheerleader, I'm the mascot," Steeljaw informed him, then licked Frenzy's audio receiver. Frenzy jerked sideways, and tried to swat his lover, but Steeljaw was already halfway across the room. The damned cat could move too damned fast. Soundwave, he noticed, had also made a grab for Steeljaw and had failed. At least Soundwave was taking his side!

"You should get started on the visor mods." Steeljaw lingered, however, just out of snatching range, with the door open behind him.

Impulsively, he blurted out, _:Steeljaw, I love you.:_

His spark clenched, and his systems stuttered in fright. He had never voiced his feelings seriously. So little time had passed since he'd been frightened, alone, and Steeljaw had entered his life.

Steeljaw smiled. _:Frenzy, I love you too.:_

He shuttered his optics for a moment, warmth surging through his systems. Steeljaw _loved _him. He was wanted, desired, by the most wonderful mech he'd ever known. There was simple, truthful honesty in Steeljaw's words.

_:I need to go.: _Steeljaw sounded reluctant, but he was right. They didn't have time to indulge themselves in any more sentimental moments._:Comm me if you need any tools or parts.:_

After Steeljaw had trotted out of the room, Soundwave rested a hand on Frenzy's back. "Soundwave, approve. Steeljaw, excellent match."

"We ain't permanent yet, boss." Frenzy sat down crosslegged. "Lemme have your visor. I need to solder in a couple of new leads."

Soundwave nodded, and slid the visor off his face. He was now deaf to language, and mute. He handed the visor to Frenzy, patted Frenzy on the arm, and seated himself at a chair. Frenzy was unsuprised when Soundwave produced a tool kit and a box of small electronic parts from his own subspace and picked out a few pieces Frenzy would need.

He glanced over at Soundwave.

Soundwave nodded approvingly at him.

That was definitely communication, if not language. Buoyed by Soundwave's approval, Frenzy focused on the task at hand and not on the gnawing apprehension in his spark. He could do this. He _would _do this. It would simply take stubborn determination and a refusal to quit, and he could dock with Soundwave like he'd done almost every day for millenia.

He looked up at Soundwave, briefly. Soundwave pointed imperiously at the visor, then handed him a soldering iron.

He'd learned stubbornness from the best of them.

He could do this. He _could_.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Author's notes:

Not dead yet.

I have a few more chapters to post in the near future, too. :-)

-

"You sure about this, kid?" Rewind's fingers were delicate and swift as he wired a new data port in amongst the massed sensor arrays and scanners on Steeljaw's back. "I mean, I get you like Frenzy, but his master's not exactly the most upstanding of citizens."

"Soundwave's cool." Steeljaw spoke without moving his jaw so much as a micrometer. Still, Wheeljack scowled at him. 'Jack was removing his face plating to get at a data node that linked directly to Steeljaw's data processors. That work put Wheeljack's fingers perilously close to some powerful hydraulics.

"He's a hard worker, I'll give him that," Wheeljack allowed, speaking of Soundwave. "Not sure I'd trust the slagger, though. You be careful, Steelie."

Rewind added darkly, "I'll kill both of them if anything happens to you."

Steeljaw responded with a snarled, "NO! If this goes bad and I get hurt, do _not _take your grief out on Soundwave and Frenzy."

Rewind yanked his hands free of Steeljaw's complicated sensory arrays and their potent live capacitors, as if afraid Steeljaw would lunge and cause him to contact something dangerous. Wheeljack, by contrast, just moved his fingers clear of Steeljaw's exposed shoulder hydraulics. Steeljaw hadn't bothered to hide his horror and fury at Rewind's threat, but he hadn't moved, either. It had been purely a vocal outburst.

His brother grumbled, "Just sayin'. I don't trust them. You know, it wasn't my area of interest, but I remember the news stories from way back when. You do know Soundwave was wrapped up in some big scandal even before the war, something about a noble femme's will - they found him guilty of fraud and embezzlement and forgery and a whole slew of other charges."

"I didn't know that." Steeljaw blinked in surprise. Wheeljack, reassured by Steeljaw's utter lack of motion, returned to work. If Steeljaw moved his body, Wheeljack's fingers would be crushed, but Steeljaw was the model of self-restraint.

"Hm. I'm sure the Autobot version of his history's all classified like hell." Rewind drummed his fingers on his femoral plating for a moment. "But the news broadcasts won't be. You ought to check 'em out, brother. He's got a sneaky, selfish streak and he's a master manipulator."

"He is _not_!" Steeljaw denied. He had seen enough of Soundwave - and Frenzy - to assess Soundwave's personality. He'd concluded Soundwave was more-or-less a typical beta-code carrier. Soundwave's first priority was to care for and protect his symbionts and anyone else in his clan, his second was protecting his own aft, and loyalty to a cause or an ideal was ranked only after those needs were met. He had no desire to lead, and a hard-coded imperative to attach himself to a strong leader. Some might see him as cowardly, but that programming had kept carriers and symbionts as a race alive during the darkest times in Cybertronian history.

Blaster, by contrast, was all alpha carrier. His coding made him a leader by preference, willingly following only those who truly earned his respect. He was _very _focused on the big picture, and would always chose the greater good over the welfare of his own team.

Both types of coding were normal, and were _needed_. Carriers and symbionts had survived since before recorded history because alpha carriers and beta carriers complimented each other. As he'd heard Rewind himself put it a few times, alphas were needed to throw spears at the cyberwolves while the betas and symbionts of the clan ran for the home cave.

Softer, Steeljaw said, "He reminds me of my creators' carrier. He's _normal_, by our standards."

"We're talking about the same Soundwave that ended up Megatron's second in command within a solar year of joining the Decepticons? And who already has Ratchet's trust - and yours?" Rewind snorted, drawing Steeljaw's attention back to him. "I'm not saying he's dangerous, per se, just that he's damned good at playing people. Remember, I was a journalist for half a million years before the big lug we call Master Blaster saved my skinny aft."

"I haven't forgotten." Steeljaw's response was quiet, almost soothing.

Rewind was unwilling to let it rest, however. He insisted, "Soundwave's _always _had a strong, powerful mech as his sponsor. He always seemed loyal, and his masters always trusted him, but he also survived the fall of every master he ever associated with himself. He's no alpha carrier, but he's a canny beta, and you _know _how beta carriers are. Pecking order's everything. He's just taken that to an excessive extreme, and with serial masters."

"Most skilled carriers will have a pattern of powerful sponsors," Steeljaw said, voice completely controlled. "My first master was the lover of Sentinel Prime's cousin. Because he was trusted and well-connected, he was able to earn a number of positions heading exploration teams. Soundwave is no different."

"I don't trust him. He _is_ different than most carriers. He chose evil over justice, even as the 'cons slaughtered most of our people." Rewind smacked him on the shoulder. "Now hold still while I work. And Blaster doesn't jump from master to master like Soundwave does. Not _all _carriers are on the hunt for a bigger, better, boss all the time."

"This war has caused the death of the majority of Cybertron's population, not just carriers, and some of those deaths were at the hands of Autobots. Rewind, I trust Soundwave and that's not blind trust. I've been watching him for a long time, as well. His priorities are appropriate for his coding. Blaster, by contrast, is an _alpha_. Historically, he would have led a clan. Soundwave, and those coded like him, would have _followed _mechs like our master."

He was irritated both by Rewind's attitude, and by the fact Rewind didn't trust him to sit still when his brother's hands were in dangerous places. "Rewind, Frenzy's the best thing that's happened to me ..." he shifted his optics upwards at Wheeljack, whose ear fins flashed an intensely curious rainbow of colors but who was otherwise silent, "... in a very long time. And Wheeljack, if you gossip about what we just said, you'll be finding mice in your lab for the next vorn."

Wheeljack's laugh was mirrored by a ripple of brilliant blues and purples across his fins. "Aww, don't worry about me. I figured something was up when Ratchet asked me if we had enough cybertronium to support a symbiont's gestation."

"_What_?" Steeljaw said, incredulously. His ears pinned flat. Rewind howled with laughter, sounding more like Eject than Steeljaw's sanest brother. Still without moving his body, Steeljaw managed to radiate horror as he exclaimed, "Oh, slag, no!"

Wheeljack snickered. "You know, that is a side effect of having certain kinds of fun. And it _really _pisses Ratchet off when he has to terminate sparklets for lack of resources. Your kind have sparklings so tiny we might be able to pull off a live birth, for once."

"Oh, hell no." Steeljaw stamped a foot for emphasis, since both their hands were currently in the clear. "Hell. No. I am _not _gestating in the middle of a fragging war, and we're not even merging, so slaggit no! It ain't happening. Tell Ratchet he can stuff that Cybertronian where the sun doesn't shine because he's a hell of a lot more likely to need it there than I am."

His sibling and Wheeljack both howled with laughter. Wheeljack, having finished attaching the delicate leads from the new dataport, ruffled Steeljaw's ears in what was certainly a deliberate effort to piss him off more. "I think you just told me more than I wanted to know about your 'facing habits, kitty."

"Yeah, now I need to bleach my processor." Rewind elbowed him playfully.

"We take turns," Steeljaw said, with as much dignity as he could muster. "It's all fun."

"Hmm. Frenzy could carry the bitlet ..." Rewind said thoughtfully.

"I'm _bigger _than he is. And it's always easier - and safer - for a quadruped to carry."

"So you _would _carry." Rewind poked him playfully.

"Not _now_!" he wailed.

"Would you, though?" Rewind persisted. He had a journalist's trained curiosity and a brother's love of teasing. Sometimes, Steeljaw wanted to slap him flat. This was definitely one of those times.

Between the glare he gave Rewind and the surge of rising anger across their bond, Rewind clearly realized he'd pushed Steeljaw far enough. Steeljaw was torqued off enough that Blaster pinged them in worry. "Oookay. I take it that subject is very off limits."

"Until I have a chance to talk to Frenzy about it, yes," Steeljaw ground out. He added, to both Blaster and Steeljaw, across their bond, _:Boss, tell Rewind to stop being an aft.:_

_:Rewind, being an aft is Eject's job. Knock it off.: _Blaster said, obligingly, and including Eject and the others in that comment.

_:Oh, frag all of you.: _Eject responded, cheerfully.

Ramhorn, voice as laconic as always, said slowly, _:I think Steeljaw's too busy with Frenzy to frag you, Eject. You're not my type. Rewind is old enough to be your great-grandfather. Blaster isn't that type of Master. And I was napping.:_  
Steeljaw remembered that Ramhorn was almost as hard to embarrass as Frenzy.

Meanwhile, Wheeljack was oblivious to the byplay between Steeljaw and his family, and reacted to his discomfort with the idea of procreating with a snicker. Then he asked, "Rewind, you about done with that port?"

"Yep, all connected. Just a couple of clips left to hold the wires. Will you hold that brace up while I pull the wires through?" And with that, the two of them were back to business as they completed the rapid addition to Steeljaw's modifications.

The final step, after his metallic armored mane had been returned to place, was to repair his paint. It had been scuffed in the process of removing armor. Steeljaw's ears went flat when he saw the tiny spray cans that Wheeljack produced.

"Oh, no. No. No." He backed up, ears flattening and eyes narrowing to slits. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Stuff is designed to dry quick," Wheeljack said, with a shrug. "It'll look okay."

Rewind slapped him on the shoulder. "You volunteered, dingus. What, you think we can give you three coats of enamel and a good wax in twenty minutes?"

He slammed his optic shutters shut, and forced himself to stand still. "Okay, fine. Do it."

The spray paint was _foul. _His sense of smell was integral to his code, and could not - should not - be turned off. It was one of his greatest defenses, and at the moment, one of his worst weaknesses. In lieu of disabling his sense of smell entirely, he sucked air in through a filtered vent in his chest and reversed the flow so it went _out _his nasal passages. The filter should have gotten rid of the stink but he seemed to have an air leak. The smell of the spray paint was so strong he could _taste _it. The odor was literally painful and he stood stock still, feet braced, refusing to do anything that might cause them to mess up. Then they'd have to fix the mistake and that would mean he would be subjected to the raw fumes that much longer.

They were done after what felt like eons later, but was actually only eighteen minutes.

"Don't move until it's dry. Takes ten minutes." Wheeljack's ear fins swirled with merry reds and pinks. Steeljaw wondered if 'Jack actually had a sense of smell under his blast mask. There was no way that any mech with even standard olfactory sensors could be that cheerful in the presence of the choking cloud of paint stench.

"Peeyewwww, you stink," Frenzy's voice almost made him jump.

"Thank you for telling me. I didn't know." He couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. He was _not _in a mood to be teased.

"Bet if we lit a match, you'd go boom," Frenzy walked around to where Steeljaw could see him. Steeljaw was trying very hard not to move. However, he narrowed his eyes in warning.

"Yeah. Imagine so." He could smell flammable solvents among the myriad of foul chemicals.

"Huh. At least it comes off easy with some acetone and we can paint you properly later." Frenzy rested his hands on his hips. "Soundwave added my hardline comm port. He managed to do it without scratching me up."

"My armor's a little more complicated to take off. It always gets scratched." He wasn't going to disparage Wheeljack's work. He also wasn't very thrilled about the idea of removing the paint from his plating with acetone, either, and couldn't quite keep the dour expression off his face. Acetone was nasty if it came in contact with protoform, so he would need to take his armor off for cleaning. He _hated _the vulnerability of being naked.

"You're always the one who gets scuffed up. Maybe I should keep a few of those cans of spray paint on hand." Frenzy smirked at him. "It'd stop suspicious questions every morning."

"No, it wouldn't. Giant paint stink, giant red flag." He transformed a single digit in the middle of his paw into a stubby finger and tapped it against the ground.

Frenzy looked down, saw the gesture, and burst into deeply amused laughter. "Skyfire's waiting when you're dry, Mouser. See you outside."

"Wait!" He didn't want to be left alone, and if he tried to walk, he would smear the paint as his joints flexed.

"Sorry, gotta go. Boss's mask needs a few more mods." Nonchalantly, Frenzy headed back out of Wheeljack's lab.

"Pit. How long until this crap dries?" He tried not to fidget.

Rewind imitated a human cough. "I think I'm done here. I'm gonna flee your stink, Steeljaw ..."

"Oh, slag you."

After Rewind had left, Wheeljack observed, in a teasing tone, "The smell will fade. With time. They won't avoid you forever."

"Slag you too."

"You're welcome. Give it another few minutes, then go stand outside in the sun. You'll be dry by the time Skyfire's ready to go."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"So would you really bear a sparkling?" Wheeljack asked, tone going gentler. His ear fins showed muted and quiet colors, not their usual psychedelic flashing brilliance.

"Slag you." Steeljaw wasn't in the mood for this discussion.

Wheeljack held both hands up defensively, displaying his empty palms. His ear fins swirled with worried blue. "Easy, Mouser. I'm not teasing."

He huffed. "It's too early. I haven't discussed it with Frenzy. I _don't know_."

"But would you? If Frenzy wanted to?"

Obviously, Wheeljack wasn't going to drop the subject. As he recalled, Wheeljack loved children, and had adopted and raised a few reformats in the past centuries. He was probably hoping to be an 'uncle' to a child in the near future, and Steeljaw felt his irritation lessen as he realized that.

Though he was reluctant to discuss the matter, Steeljaw admitted, "I'd like kids. And when this blasted war's over, it will be our duty to procreate. And … it'd do everyone good to have sparklings around."

Wheeljack nodded slowly. "And Cybertronium is in very limited supply, Steeljaw. Bear that in mind. Optimus and Ratchet would never pressure you, but I think you should be reminded of that."

He huffed a sigh. "And micro-sized sparklings need less Cybertronium to build viable protoforms. Right. Got it."

"We've tried to create protoforms that need no Cybertronium," Wheeljack said, then looked sharply up and away from Steeljaw. "Well. It's possible, but the results are imperfect."

-

Skyfire heard them coming before he saw them - Steeljaw and Frenzy were bickering over nothing in particular, at great volume and with a emphasis on insulting one another's character and ancestry. He would have smiled were he in root mode. Contrary to the opinions of many, Skyfire wasn't nearly as conservative or dignified as his bearing and cultured speech would suggest. He found the symbionts to be enjoyable company; their energy and enthusiastic approach to living was infectious.

Then he got a whiff of the residual paint fumes coming off Steeljaw's hasty paint job, and he kicked the cabin's air filters up to their highest setting. Steeljaw groaned as he heard the fans ramp up. "Sorry, Skyfire."

"No apologies necessary. It is merely a bad smell."

"It's _my _bad smell." Steeljaw sat on the deck next to the entry ramp to Skyfire's hold, a scant few feet inside. "I want to know why, if the paint's dry, it still stinks?"

"It is still offgassing many solvents from the paint," Skyfire offered, even though Steeljaw's comment had been more complaint than question. "There may be a noticeable odor for a few days."

"Slag's gonna melt my olfactory sensors," Steeljaw grumbled.

"You could always turn them off," Frenzy sat down next to him. "That's what I did about two seconds after I got a whiff of you."

"If you turned them off, why have you been bitching at me about the stink for the last twenty minutes?"

"Sensor echoes ..." Frenzy tried to claim, even as Steeljaw whacked him in the back of the head with his tail.

"Owe."

"Wimp." Steeljaw grinned, though the expression looked a bit strained. "And would you chose to offline your optics because the light was too bright?"

"No ..."

"My olfactory sensors _are _my primary sensors. Optics are tertiary after my hearing. It's how I can navigate in total darkness, as well as track anything, anywhere, in any atmosphere." Steeljaw sounded smug. "Losing vision doesn't bug me nearly as much as it would bug you."

"Sense of smell can't target something a mile away with a laser rifle," Frenzy pointed out.

Soundwave, who'd taken a seat against the cargo hold wall next to the two symbionts, reached out and whacked Frenzy on the other side the head with the back of his hand.

"_What_?" Frenzy demanded, turning to glare at his master as Skyfire raised the ramp, turned the interior lighting on, and taxied for the runway.

"Tactical analysis inadequate." Soundwave's rebuke was real; Skyfire was surprised by it, at first, then remembered what sort of environment they'd come from.

"Oh. Yeah. He's got a bunch of long range sensors on his back." Frenzy ran a hand over his face. "Some of which are passive. Right."

"I'm best used as a close range fighter." Steeljaw flopped over on his side, cheek landing on Soundwave's leg. "Blaster made sure I got the mods for ranged combat before I ever went into the field, however, my core programming's all about fighting up close and personal, and it suits my build."

"Cybercats, meant as guardians." Soundwave stroked Steeljaw's neck. "Once, golden age long ago, Iacon honor guard Prime carriers, feline symbionts, special division. Use: crowd control, threat detection."

"That would have been _fun_," Steeljaw's optics brightened at the thought.

"So all their symbionts had to be cats?" Frenzy asked, expression suddenly troubled. "What if a carrier wanted to join the honor guard, and was bonded to others?"

"Allowed. Bondmates, other work. Alternate, other symbionts reformat become feline."

Frenzy made an exaggerated shudder. "The level of core programming they'd need to change to make somebody like me into a feline symbiont would change who I _am_. No _thank _you."

"What, afraid of a little improvement?" Steeljaw grinned at him, without lifting his head from Soundwave's leg.

Frenzy bonked him with a closed fist on the shoulder. "No. I just like being me. And quit being so clingy to Soundwave, You're making him uncomfortable."

Steeljaw lifted his head a bit and rolled his optics up to look at Soundwave's expressionless face. Soundwave's hand stilled on Steeljaw's neck.

"Do I look too much like Ravage?" Steeljaw rolled over onto his chest. "I'm sorry. I was thoughtless."

"Resemblance Ravage strong, physical. No resemblance personality. Not cause of sorrow." Soundwave reached a hand out and stroked the young symbiont's head gently. "Frenzy correct, Soundwave uneasy physical contact Steeljaw."

"Because I'm not yours." Steeljaw looked sharply away from him. "Sorry. I told you, I'm always leaning on somebody. I'll try to remember to keep my paws to myself."

Skyfire was impressed - and a little amazed - when Soundwave reached out and pulled Steeljaw into his lap, and then did the same to a surprised Frenzy. While Skyfire powered up his engines up to take off, Soundwave said calmly, "Uneasy, yes. Steeljaw, desirable cassette. Soundwave would want, very much want, if Steeljaw single or Steeljaw maltreated. Soundwave not courting because Steeljaw happy. However, concern from Blaster reaction. Other mechs reaction, too. "

Soundwave stroked Steeljaw's head with one hand, while wrapping his other arm around Frenzy's body. He continued, "Unease, because desire, and because position ... difficult ... here. Soundwave, not wish risk trouble Blaster, others. Frenzy sense unease, misunderstand cause."

"You're afraid that Blaster's gonna get mad," Frenzy murmured. "Oh."

"And others. Blaster, popular. Soundwave, once Decepticon. Blaster friends defend Blaster honor, loss of symbiont loss of honor."

Sheepishly, Steeljaw said, "I'm not sure how much the rest of the crew grasps the fine points of carrier-symbiont relations, Soundwave. I already told you Blaster trusts me. If it worries you, though, I'll keep my paws off your plating in public. And, uh, no offense, but I ain't looking for a new master. "

Soundwave nodded slowly. "Wise idea. If circumstances different, though - Soundwave desire Steeljaw much. Soundwave admiration much. Important, no mistaken intentions current status."

"Thanks for the compliments." Steeljaw grinned. "You're pretty cool yourself, for an evil dude."

Skyfire launched himself airborn at that moment, but he did not miss Frenzy's indignant denial of Soundwave's evil-ness or Soundwave's eerie sounding laughter. Soundwave prevented Frenzy from whacking Steeljaw by the simple method of tightening his grip around Frenzy's middle. Steeljaw grinned a toothy grin.

"You're going to sleep with your brothers, if you keep that up," Frenzy finally said, settling back into Soundwave's lap. His optics were brightly amused, despite his irritated tone.

Soundwave spat static, suddenly looking alarmed, and said, "Skyfire."

Skyfire let a laugh of his own ripple through his frame. "Don't worry, Soundwave. Perceptor hypothesized that they were interfacing last week, and I confirmed his theory as I am tall enough to see over the room partition between our labs."

"Oops." Steeljaw at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. Frenzy, being Frenzy, simply grinned.

"How many know?" Frenzy asked, pragmatism surfacing. "We promised we'd keep our relationship quiet."

Steeljaw made a snorting noise and said in Cybertronian to his lover, "Quiet? You?"

Frenzy whacked him hard enough that the clang echoed through Skyfire's hold. "Speak English around Soundwave. And you know what I mean. Slaggit, English is so damn _general _sometimes."

Skyfire explained, "Percy and I know, plus First Aid made a guess about your relationship independent of our knowledge. Others, of course, suspect. I know they've been teasing you, but there is real suspicion behind the teasing. Smokescreen has a betting pool." Skyfire would have smiled had he been in root mode. As it was, he could not quite keep the mirth out of his voice. He knew some of the Autobots felt differently, but he thought the two symbionts were a good match.

Soundwave hissed static, getting their attention, and then said, "Practice required, utilization visor modifications. Suggest begin now. Skyfire, assistance requested."

"How can I help?" He was intrigued by their plans.

"Speak Cybertronian." Soundwave was handing connector cables to the two symbionts. "Steeljaw, translate to English, print to visor. Soundwave send response Frenzy. Frenzy respond via connection Soundwave vocalizer, imitate Soundwave speech patterns before damage neural circuits."

"_Clever_." Skyfire was impressed. It sounded complicated, but he suspected it would work well. Symbionts and carriers were _built _for teamwork.

The symbionts plugged in, amid a bit of ribald joking about _plugging_ and male and female connectors. Soundwave finally silenced them both with a dark glare from behind his visor. Frenzy's apologetic, "Yes sir!" confirmed that the connection was working. Soundwave had, apparently, silently scolded him.

Skyfire made a throat clearing noise, then said in Cybertronian, "Can you understand me now?"

A couple klicks passed. Steeljaw glanced up at Soundwave, and then Frenzy mirrored him. The hardline wires swung loosely between them. Then Soundwave spoke from his real vocalizer, "Affirmative."

The tonalities and resonance in his voice changed. Skyfire could hear the difference between the visor's speakers and Soundwave's vocalizer instantly. There was also a trace more emotional pitch in that word. It sounded _very _natural.

It was easy to assume he was talking to Soundwave directly, if one ignored the two symbionts jacked into his visor and vocalizer. Skyfire continued in Cybertronian, "Excellent. I must say, you are nothing like what I expected. Your skills in the med bay and engineering have been noted and appreciated."

Soundwave nodded his head, then said - or rather, Frenzy said - "No gratitude is necessary. The work is enjoyable."

Frenzy snorted, and added in his own voice, from his own frame, "He's flattered by the compliment, though. Don't let him fool you."

Soundwave flicked Frenzy in the auditory sensor with one finger, then said, "Frenzy, behave. Emotional sharing, undesired."

Frenzy scowled up at him with absolute indignation in his expression. "I can't believe you just made me scold _myself_."

"Observation: Scolding well earned."

Skyfire found the mental whiplash jarring as he forcefully reminded himself that it was _Frenzy _telling himself that that the scolding was well earned, in his master's voice. Frenzy was apparently unamused, too, because he growled, "Oh, frag you."

"Hey, I thought you didn't swing that way with your boss," Steeljaw objected. This earned him a burst of static from Soundwave and an uplifted finger from Frenzy.

"I wouldn't frag _you _right now. You stink!"

"And you've got your olfactory sensors off. So shut the slag up already."

"But that smell would rub off on me!"

"Shut. The. Slag. Up."

Skyfire decided it was going to be a _very _entertaining flight. The bickering continued, with both symbionts switching over to Cybertronian at Soundwave's urging. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn the fluidly natural responses from Soundwave (even with Soundwave's uniquely formatted grammar) were entirely his. The fact that Frenzy was conversing with _himself _as he translated Soundwave's scrambled and mangled English into Cybertronian was very easy to overlook.

His estimation of the young symbionts' intelligence went up with every exchange, however. He tested Frenzy on some fairly technical subjects, and Frenzy (and Steeljaw) flawlessly pulled off the translation. Frenzy's English vocabulary was expansive and fluent. He easily conversed with Soundwave as 'himself' as well as translating Soundwave's garbled English replies into smoothly technical Cybertronium.

Skyfire found himself oddly saddened, as the full extent of Frenzy's intelligence became apparent to him. Steeljaw's brilliance was no surprise. He'd known the cybercat long enough to be well aware that Steelie's social intelligence was far above average, he had a substantial amount of formal education, and he had a keenly intuitive mind. However, Frenzy's usefulness in the med bay and in engineering did not mean genius; ordinary repairs and even complex feats of engineering were within the grasp of mechs of ordinary intelligence.

Frenzy's ability to translate from one language to another so smoothly and fluently hinted that there was something more to the symbiont than just a good work ethic and the ability to read a blueprint. It was most intriguing.

He wondered how many other 'cons were there like Frenzy? The Autobots often dismissed their enemies as uneducated brutes. Frenzy had no formal education, and Skyfire thought that his native intelligence had been wasted by the war, where he had functioned simply as a warrior and communications technician. He could have been so much more.

He resolved to make far more use of the young mech. He could not wait to see just how far Frenzy could go, with real science training.

-

The next step in testing their new mods came too quickly for Frenzy's preferences. He would have preferred to put docking with Soundwave off forever, and he wasn't entirely sure he had the fortitude to go through with this. However, while they could connect to the visor with external hard lines - or with a less secure radio transmission, if the situation required it - the goal was for both of them to communicate with Soundwave while discretely nestled within his chest.

_:Can ... can you go first?: _Frenzy asked of Steeljaw. He was unable to mask his apprehension, either from Soundwave (who could feel the full brunt of it) or from Steeljaw. Steeljaw might not have a bond with him, but his lover still possessed an uncanny ability to read his moods.

Steeljaw glanced up at Soundwave, who stood upright in the middle of Skyfire's hold. Skyfire folded subspace in all sorts of interesting ways. There should not have been the height inside a cargo jet for Soundwave to stand upright. However, Skyfire routinely transported Optimus, Ultra Magnus, and other enormous Autobots. Apparently, accomodation had been made for their frames.

Soundwave nodded acknowledgement of Steeljaw's glance in his direction, and opened his docking door. Inside, a rack of a full dozen empty slots awaited. This was clear evidence that Soundwave's own early life had been good; a stressed or malnourished carrier sparkling would grow fewer docking slots. Blaster only had eight slots, and Steeljaw ruthlessly squealched a hard-coded instinct that made him want to compare their physical attributes.

Soundwave's enormous docking rack made him strongly desirable. In prehistoric times, a sparkling who had been well-nourished and cared for generally meant that he was part of a large, successful, clan, with powerful creators.

He shuttered his optics for a second. _:Love you, Blaster,: _he thought across the bond at his master, impulsively, as guilt seized his spark. Though his reaction was instinctive, it felt like a betrayal, even if Blaster knew he was working this closely with Soundwave and _trusted _him. Blaster's calm acceptance of Steeljaw's work - and friendship - with Soundwave made his guilt even worse.

From somewhere in California he got a response that was utterly trusting, _:Back atcha. See you in a little bit, Kitten.:_

He pulsed warmth and love at his master, then initiated a transformation sequence and leaped at the same time. He didn't quite calculate the physics right - Blaster was a little shorter than Soundwave - but Soundwave caught him and neatly slotted him into a dock.

His HUD immediately displayed the message:

**Initiate Docking Sequence Y/N? **

_**Y**_

**New carrier detected. Initiating compatability checks ... hardware compatible ... carrier drivers corrupted. Initiate disconnect Y/N? **

_**N**_

_Damn_, he thought, savagely, though this was unsuprising. _:Frenzy, tell Soundwave his docking drivers are corrupted. Someone's going to have to fix them.: _

Frenzy was still connected to Soundwave's visor via a hard line, and presumably he used that to carry on a quick conversation. Then he informed Steeljaw, _:Soundwave wants you to repair them.:_

_:Better if you do it, Sweetspark.: _What Soundwave had proposed was very invasive.

_:I'm, uh.:_

Terrified out of his mind by the idea of docking, Steeljaw translated. _:Got it. Can Soundwave lower his firewalls?:_

_:No. He doesn't really have any ability to modify his code.:_

_:Great. Warn him I'm going to hack him.:_

_:He's not thrilled about it, but he says go ahead. He said to remind you he can fry your circuits in the dock if you turn hostile.:_

_:Oh, wonderful. Tell him if he thinks I'm being hostile to _warn _me first before frying me, kthx?:_

He turned is attention back to the docking initiation protocols. A skilled symbiont _could _hack a carrier, particularly a young or naive one. Trust between symbiont and carrier had to go both ways. In Soundwave's case, the hacker would need to be doubly skilled specifically because Soundwave's hardware was so damaged. It was inevitable that the damage would introduce creeping code errors. This problem was an annoyance, but not a surprise.

He instructed Soundwave's docking protocols:

**Display: Error log.**

_**Access denied.**_

Yeah, this was going to be a _lot _of fun.

Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Ratchet had alluded to an epic battle when he'd hacked Soundwave's systems. However, five minutes later, Steeljaw was past the initial firewall, and had fooled the docking node into thinking his presence was a script running in the back ground. He swiftly changed permissions for the docking node so that he could fix the damned driver, and got to work. He was well aware that the only reason he was able to do so quickly was that Soundwave was not fighting him, _could _not fight him, and Ratchet had left some obvious holes in the firewall for quick medical access in an emergency.

What was left of the architecture of Soundwave's original firewalls and defensive routines was impressive. He saved notes for later review, knowing that he would learn a considerable amount from this exercise.

He sent another command to Soundwave's systems to initiate docking. The response, this time, was far less fragged up. His own HUD displayed the progress.

**Docking protocols initiated. **  
**New carrier recognized. **  
**Initiating compatability check ... Hardware compatible. **  
**Code update required to sync with carrier. Update code? Y/N.**

And it turned out that the driver he'd fixed was non-standard. He examined it, realized it gave Soundwave a little more access to his memory modules than he cared to allow anyone, even his _own _master, and wrote a firewall for himself that specifically countered Soundwave's nosiness. Frenzy could share whatever the hell he wanted with his master; Steeljaw liked his privacy. He wasn't sure if Soundwave could still use the access his systems were asking for, but he wasn't taking chances.

To be fair, the permissions that Soundwave's docking protocols used were not outrageous or abusive. They were _practical , _designed for a team dedicated to collecting intelligence and rapid analysis of data. Rewind and Ramhorn both connected to Blaster with very similar protocols. However, Steeljaw was his own mech and he had memories that were private and which he didn't share with anyone.

Blaster's willingness to respect Steeljaw's privacy had been one major reason for Steeljaw's willingness to trust, and then love, him.

And as much as he was fond of Soundwave, _damned _if he'd let Soundwave have that kind of access to his memory and data files on a default setting. Even if Soundwave probably couldn't utilize the link.

His HUD informed him:

**Docking successful. **  
**Prepare for connection.**

He felt additional cables automatically connect to his ports: electrical power, energon, sensor feeds, and a very high bandwidth connection to Soundwave's neural cortex. His power plant idled down and then clicked off as Soundwave's far more efficient systems took over his energy needs. Sensor feeds from Soundwave's own systems replaced his own; in effect, Soundwave became his eyes and ears.

Once completely docked, it became rapidly clear that Soundwave's circuits were fragged to the Pit and back. He had known it was bad. He had never realized that Soundwave had sustained enough damage to offline most mechs.

Where there should have been direct hardline verbal communication, there was only an echoing silence. He had never realized how much a warm, spoken, welcome mattered before. The input from Soundwave's inertial and attitude sensors were garbled beyond comprehension. His neural circuits were also not interpreting the proprioceptive and tactile input from his left leg correctly, which explained his limp and general unsteadiness. He also discovered Soundwave's reflexes that controlled balance and motion were lagged by several picoseconds, due to a bottleneck in his remaining hardware. The lag was insignificant for normal day-to-day responses, but Steeljaw suspected Soundwave's deficits would become very obvious if he had to move at high speeds.

Still, he could see and hear through Soundwave's sensors, and he was getting a steady supply of power. He relaxed, powering down his hydraulics, and shutting off the flow of coolant to all but his neural circuits. His respect for Soundwave kicked up a notch. He'd yet to hear Soundwave complain, and Steeljaw suspected his reaction to such damage would be bitter anger, denial, and grief.

_:You ready, lover?: _he asked Frenzy, wondering as if did if Frenzy was aware of the true depth of Soundwave's damage.

_:Yeah.: _The muted, emotionally flat tone from Frenzy warned him just how scared Frenzy was.

_:When this is all over, I'm going to frag you until you offline,: _ he said, which was the first thing that popped into his mind as a way to distract Frenzy from overthinking the docking process. _:I'm going to jump your struts like they've never been jumped before ...:_

There was a solid _thunk _next to him as Frenzy slotted himself into the rack. _:Thanks, Mouser.:_

_:Oh, you're so very welcome.: _He put plenty of leer in his voice.

_:Just lose the stink!: _Frenzy's laugh sounded close to hysterical.

_:You _said _you turned off your olfactory sensors.: _He wasn't going to forget that.

_:I am now plugged into Soundwave's sensory network. He _can't _shut his down.: _Frenzy, at least, sounded annoyed. Annoyed wasn't terrified.

_:Huh. Must be why I smell myself less now.: _Soundwave's olfactory sensors were far less sensitive than Steeljaw's own.

Frenzy snickered at him.

In front of 'his' visual sensors, words from Soundwave appeared on Steeljaw's HUD, _**Steeljaw, gratitude. Task done well.**_

They had agreed previously that Soundwave's comments to them would be in blue, and Soundwave's comments directed at the outside world in red. These letters were blue.

Steeljaw accessed the visor and printed, in purple, _**No thanks necessary.**_

Frenzy added, in his chosen shade of green, _**Yeah, the bragging rights will be payment enough. He got to hack you, boss. **_

_**Discretion, requested. **_Soundwave replied immediately, and probably with some alarm.

_**Confidentiality, respected. :-) **_ Steeljaw promised, and wished he was in root mode so he could swat Frenzy for being a jerk to his master. Instead, he transmitted a cartoon of himself smacking Frenzy; the visor's HUD was good enough to permit low resolution animation. Frenzy replied with an image of himself with his glossa sticking out and both index fingers upraised in a rude salute. Somewhat to his surprise, Soundwave responded with a line drawing of Frenzy sitting on a stool, facing a corner, his posture radiating indignation.

Soundwave stated, _**Frenzy also respect confidentiality.**_

Soundwave must have accompanied that statement with a strong emotional response, because all Frenzy said was, _**Yes sir**_**.**

Soundwave then said, _**Query Steeljaw: Meaning punctuation marks ":-)"**_

Hooboy. Apparently, nobody had bothered to teach Soundwave emoticons. He printed ten various marks with the emotion they represented stated after the emoticon.

_**Soundwave, understand. Symbols indicate emotions. New functionality requested visor: emoticon embedded with text affect speech tonalities. Modification time later.**_

_:Okay, Mouser. I think you just broke my brain.: _Frenzy's complaint could only be heard by Steeljaw, as it was transmitted over his comm.

Steeljaw chuckled over the comm at Frenzy, even as he printed the message for Soundwave, _**:I'll start compiling the code now, big guy. That's an easy mod for your visor. We can test it tonight.:**_

Once he was done responding to Soundwave, Steeljaw said to Frenzy privately, _:Why the shock? It makes sense. I'm not surprised that Soundwave saw the opportunity immediately. Communications is his specialty for a reason.:_

_:My master and smilies? Does not compute.:_

_:Sometimes I think you don't give your master the credit he deserves. He's no drone.: _Steeljaw found himself a little annoyed at Frenzy.

_:He's laughed more in the last few weeks than I think he has since Fairwinds died, Mouser. It feels weird. You didn't know him before this ... before _that _happened. He also deliberately conceals his emotions from others for tactical reasons. Why would he want to be able to _add _emotion to his voice?.:_

_:He's got a lover now, and friends,: _Steeljaw said, unconcerned. Frenzy's reaction struck him as strange. Soundwave's grief had been obvious, but so had his real enjoyment of Ratchet's company, and Steeljaw's own. He knew from his own personal experience that the death of loved ones did not stop the world from turning, and life went on. _:And - regarding his mood, are you surprised that he's laughing because you think he should still be completely mourning your siblings?:_

_:Yeah.: _The admission was softly spoken and reluctant.

_:You laugh all the time,: _Steeljaw pointed out. His irritation faded. He'd had this discussion with others, often. Steeljaw _knew _what loss was like. _:Why should it be different for Soundwave?:_

_:Because ... because it wasn't my _responsibility _that they died.:_

_:Was it Soundwave's?: _

_:I ...: _Frenzy trailed off, silent in his slot, and didn't answer.

_:Frenzy, lover, does he grieve them?:_

_:Yeah. A lot.: _Frenzy huffed an electronic sigh over the comm. _:He thinks about them. I can tell. He hurts. At night … I think he cries sometimes, and we don't know it.:_

_:So. Whose fault was it that they died?: _Steeljaw knew this was a dangerous question; that Frenzy could decide to blame the Autobots. Still, he was annoyed at Frenzy. Not mad, just irritated. Frenzy, much as he loved him, wasn't always the most emotionally astute mech, and Steeljaw's patience was limited.

_:I don't know.: _Frenzy's voice was miserable. _:I … I can't even get mad about it anymore.:_

_:How about we simply concentrate on ending the war.: _Steeljaw suddenly felt guilty for his annoyance. Frenzy was hurting too. He wished he could snuggle in close to Frenzy, even though - in this mood - Frenzy would likely resist the physical comfort. _:We all bear fault, Frenzy. All of us.:_

Soundwave, oblivious to their private conversation, said, _**Suggestion: practice communications time to landing, cooperation Skyfire willing.**_

Steeljaw was still trying to figure out what Soundwave meant when Frenzy accessed Soundwave's vocalizer and said, "Skyfire: Assistance requested. Will you converse with me? Speech practice is necessary."

"Sure, guys."

_**Plurality conversants recognized, please grammatically speak Soundwave one sentience. Please Cybertronian. **_Soundwave printed his comment to the visor for Frenzy to translate into Cybertronian.

Steeljaw was still puzzling his meaning out when Frenzy came up with a translation, "Please speak to me alone, and in Cybertronian. Symbiotic assistance will not be acknowledged in the field."

Skyfire made a throat-clearing noise, then said in Cybertronian, "As you know, I was created long before the war began and have been in stasis lock for many years. Soundwave, before I left on my last mission, I remember you were in the news. I was quite surprised to recognize your designation and speech patterns - your, uh, former speech patterns - among the Decepticons."

The _actual _statement he had made, of course, would have taken paragraphs to translate properly into English. The main content of Skyfire's statement was spoken simultaneously with an infrasound databurst containing specifics: exact time periods, the depth of Skyfire's stasis lock and the reason for it, the name of the news outlets, a brief summary of Skyfire's mission, and quick analysis of what set Soundwave's (original) speech patterns apart.

All of this was sent within the period of time a human would take to say a sentence or two. Soundwave, who was pecking letters in English out by blinking his optics at his HUD, was no faster in his responses than the average human was at speaking aloud.

Steeljaw waded through Skyfire's words, translated the basics into English, and printed an English summary of the critical points to Soundwave's visor with as little lag as he could manage. He then added a complete translation of the secondary data in a pop-up box that Soundwave could open and look at if he felt he needed more information about Skyfire's statement. The data would save to the visor's hard drive, and he could also review it later, at his convenience.

_:He hates it when people remind him of those old news stories,: _Frenzy commented, to Steeljaw.

_:What news stories?: _

_:You didn't know?:_

_:I know he was involved in politics before the war, hooked up with Megatron, and then you lot were a pitload of trouble for us after that.:_

_:Thanks for compliment. We sure tried.:_

At that moment, Soundwave responded to Skyfire, so he wasn't able to ask Frenzy more about his perspective of Soundwave's past. Steeljaw also realized had no hope of understanding Soundwave's scrambled words he'd posted in reaction to Skyfire's statement, but Frenzy apparently knew what he meant and said via Soundwave's vocalizer, "Few remember that time."

"Not many of your peers are old enough to remember." Steeljaw swiftly translated and printed Skyfire's Cybertronian words to Soundwave's visor before Skyfire added, "Or make the connection. Soundwave is not an unusual designation. Your appearance was different."

The only underlying data to Soundwave's words this time were observations on the ages of the various elder mechs living at the Ark. Steeljaw printed that data directly to Soundwave's screen, in the form of a table, for clarity's sake. Soundwave and Ratchet were among the two oldest mechs left alive anywhere. From a Cybertronian standpoint, older mechs were generally noted for having very strong personalities, and love affairs between the eldest tended to be complicated.

This was a source of much humor, if you were Cybertronian. The gentle teasing was obvious, to another Cybertronian.

"Affirmative." Soundwave said, then printed a comment directly to Frenzy, instructing him to send the observation in a databurst to Skyfire: **Skyfire has fewer operational hours Bluestreak.**

Skyfire just chuckled at the observation that his own chassis might be eons old, but his life experience was lacking. _Steeljaw _hadn't realized that Skyfire was legally younger than he was - than _Frenzy _was - and then mentally smacked himself upside the head. Skyfire had gone missing shortly after graduating from the academy. Of course he was young.

Skyfire asked, "Does Prime know the full story of what happened?"

"Unknown." Soundwave sat down in one of the jump seats beside a window, and stared out if for a long moment. The afternoon was hazy, with the horizon obscured by moisture in the air. "Prime, not at fault for conviction. Due to faulty data, flawed legal conclusion resulted."

"And does Ratchet know?"

"Ratchet knows I was partner bonded before." Soundwave sighed. Steeljaw found himself surprised by how natural Frenzy's translations sounded. "The medical evidence is unmistakable."

"So you _were _bonded to Senator Fairwinds."

"Affirmative. The physician was bribed and incorrect testimony given. Such a bonding was improbable. The conviction for fraud and for tampering with her will was logical, given the evidence presented as fact in court."

It was Skyfire's turn to sigh. "You should make sure Prime knows you don't blame him. I'm certain that your past bond, and the dates, would be part of your basic medical history. Prime has seen those reports, and has not forgotten your past. On the other hand, you may want to simply make sure Ratchet _knows _the details. I'm not sure Ratchet remembers what happened with you; he never was one for following the scandals involving the nobles and he may have deleted that data eons ago as irrelevant."

"Agreed."

"You don't blame Prime, do you?" Skyfire said, with sudden concern in his voice. "Knowing Optimus, he probably feels terribly guilty."

Soundwave's initial response was incomprehensible, even to Frenzy. Frenzy and Soundwave exchanged a couple of cryptic comments that Steeljaw couldn't follow, then Frenzy stated, with only a few moments delay, "Negative. Optimus is imperfect, and mortal. This cannot be faulted. Apology unnecessary."

"He means well." Skyfire said, then added, tone somewhat cautious, "Frenzy, you're doing a good job there, but you might want to cut back on the number of primary words and use more modifiers and data bursts. Otherwise, someone will think Soundwave found a dictionary."

Steeljaw translated this, though with some trepidation. However, Soundwave's reaction was simply to chuckle, his laugh reverberating through his real vocalizer. "Use of more words required to for comprehension of 'word salad' by others. Assumption: Frenzy's translations are accurate. Frenzy has spoken for Soundwave often, before."

"Oh?"

"Questions from others, frequent and vexing. Time, often limited. Frenzy, excellent mimic."

Frenzy transmitted a giggle to Steeljaw. _:I don't think Starscream or Shockwave ever realized I can modify my own voice to sound like the boss if I need to.:_

_:That's hilarious.: _

_:It was efficient. The funniest part was that Megatron knew all about it, and never let on. So I got to boss half the army around at one time or another. They'd have stripped screws if they knew.:_

_:You ever fake out old Buckethead?:_

_:Never. I'm not that crazy.: _

Skyfire, too, was laughing at the implication of 'Soundwave's' words. "So this isn't exactly a new job for Frenzy?"

"Negative. Real time translation is new. Speaking as Soundwave is not."

"Fascinating ," Skyfire said, "I ... oh, my."

Steeljaw translated Skyfire's exclamation to 'oh my' but what he'd actually said was a very polite, very cultured version of a swear word, surrounded by modifiers for 'trouble' and 'danger' and 'Decepticons' and with a hypersonic databurst that described three seekers. Skyfire added another databurst with specifics on heading, altitude, and speed.

Frenzy didn't bother with waiting for Soundwave's response. "Is Starscream with them?"

"Unknown." Skyfire's response was terse, in Cybertronian; the databurst indicated he'd received no pingback from their transponders.

Steeljaw was still translating the most important data into English when Soundwave said, "Starscream will not harm Skyfire."

"Let's test that theory some other day, shall we?" Skyfire added modifiers indicating betrayal, danger, and mistrust. The databurst included detailed information about Skyfire's evasive abilities, including the G's he could pull. He added terse instructions to Soundwave on how to secure himself to avoid being tossed around.

Steeljaw printed in English, "Buckle in to the jump seat. The straps are underneath."

Soundwave, no fool, was already hunting for them. The five point harness was _just _big enough to hold him in place. The extenders on the straps suggested that Optimus or one of the other very large mechs used this seat regularly.

Frenzy asked, _:Skyfire, you're outgunned. You got backup coming?:_

_:They are twenty-five minutes away.:_

_:Plan?: _Steeljaw's question was terse. He knew full well that the aerialbots were not a match for seekers, and that the twenty-five minute estimate was optimistic.

_:I believe an expeditious retreat is in order.: _

A low rumble shook the shuttle's chassis as auxiliary power systems fired online.

Soundwave observed, and Frenzy translated and spoke for him, "Your acceleration exceeds Seeker capability."

"That it does, my friend." Skyfire's engines _roared _and the sudden crush of gees flung Soundwave sideways in the jump seat. He caught himself with one hand against another seat as Skyfire added, "Starscream never once beat me in fair straight-line race."

Frenzy snickered. _:Starscream's so proud of being the best flyer in this dimension. Bet that pissed him off.:_

"I am simply designed with engines that have greater thrust per unit of body weight. I cannot best him in contests of agility or accuracy, however, and your combined mass will slow my acceleration somewhat." Skyfire's chassis creaked as his wings reconfigured into for high speed sub-orbital flight. "When I knew him in the past, he continually modified his engines in an attempt to best my acceleration abilities, but he was unable to defeat the basic limitations of his structural design."

_:Yeah, well, he's had several thousand operational years since you guys were last buddies to fix that.: _Frenzy felt the warning was due.

_:I am now increasing the distance between ourselves and the seekers,: _Skyfire informed him, somewhat archly. _:I will attain orbit and make re-entry when there are fewer hostile fliers in the vicinity. The seekers will be reluctant to use the energon required to reach escape velocity in pursuit of myself as I am not a primary military target, and they are unaware of the identity of my passengers.:_

At that moment, a flash of brilliant purple light lit the window. Skyfire banked hard, engines screaming at maximum thrust, chassis shuddering, struts creaking as he pushed his structural tolerances to the limit. Two seconds later, an explosive impact sent Skyfire careening out of control in a flat spin and all went black in Steeljaw's optics as the G-forces knocked both cassettes instantly off line.

-


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

-

"We've lost telemetry, sir," Blaster's voice was steady. Too steady. He sounded like he'd just edited all emotional cues from his words before speaking.

Ratchet sucked in his own dismay and turned sharply to face the carrier. "Can Steeljaw report?"

"Hard shutdown." Blaster's response was curt, and Ratchet assumed he meant Steeljaw wasn't dead but he'd suffered an unexpected loss of power to his neural processor. "Prime, I'm detecting an autonomic transmission from Skyfire's transponders. Telemetry resuming ... slag."

He burst the data at both Ratchet and Prime, as well as Prowl, and Jazz. Ratchet hissed. "He's offline."

"Flat spin," Prime concurred. "Blaster, assume control."

"Trying." Blaster had already hacked Skyfire's motor functions - this was not as difficult as it sounded, given all flighted Autobots on Earth had a quantum transceiver specifically designed to allow Blaster, Ratchet, any of the upper command, or Silverbolt to take over if they were offline. Nobody wanted an Autobot to crash if they could help it. "His engines are _out_. Slaggit, I can't get him out of that spin!"

Ratchet switched frequencies, _:Silverbolt!:_

_:On it!: _Blaster linked his connection to Skyfire's motor controls to Teletraan. Both Silverbolt - who had more experience with flight - and Ratchet immediately logged in.

Ratchet winced at the telemetry coming back, or rather, lack thereof. There was no data from Skyfire's left wing, engine, and left front quadrant. His higher neural functions did not respond to the medic's urgent ping.

_:Slag, I've got one aileron and a rudder to work with here.: _Silverbolt swore. _:Ratch, I'm going to pop his left rear door for the drag. You monitor the structural stability.:_

Ratchet transmitted a nanoclick of code that translated to, "Understood." He was too busy to waste syllables. However, he found some good news in among the mess of damaged or unresponsive systems. "'Bolt, his transformation circuits are online."

That got an _understood _back from Silverbolt.

Ratchet snapped at the room in general, "Visual?"

"Patching a feed from Cosmos." That was Blaster, who extended a cable from his arm to of of the control room's computers. "Working on access to Milsat Delta."

Cosmos was not in a good position for clear video; his current orbit was low on the horizon relative to Skyfire, and Skyfire had the sun behind him. Still, with creative use of filters, he managed a passable low-resolution video. Skyfire still had both wings attached, but it was clear from the damage to his plating that he'd been in a nasty mid-air collision.

"Aw, slag!" Blaster exploded. Skyfire was not alone; a sleek blue seeker clung to his frame. It appeared a second was actually inside the shuttle; they could see a foot-mounted thruster and extending out from an enormous gash in Skyfire's plating. The hole was big enough that the seeker had actually been able to crawl inside through it.

Abruptly, there was the sense of a new mind accessing Skyfire's motor systems. A sharp voice snapped, _:We'll get him down alive. One of you lot could be so kind as to retrieve my wingmate from the ocean. This idiot rammed Skywarp.:_

Starscream's voice was unmistakable, even when his radio transmission lacked the harsh screechiness of his famously damaged vocalizer. Belatedly, Ratchet recognized the blue and white color scheme of that thruster.

Prowl interjected smoothly, _:Coordinates, Starscream?:_

_:Between here and the Pit!: _Starscream snarled, but he followed with a data burst that indicated the downed flyer's location and transponder frequency.

_:Silverbolt, do you have any input?:_

_:Fireflight's closest, but he doesn't have the ability to lift a seeker.:_

Starscream snapped, _:You don't need a rotary, you need a sub.:_

Prowl frowned. Ratchet mentally reviewed his own knowledge of crew rotations. Prowl said, _:We will see that he's retrieved.:_

_:Do that.: _Starscream's answer was short. His thruster-clad foot disappeared from view. After a second, the Skyfire's left wing started responding to motor controls. Silverbolt automatically tried to level him out, and got kicked out of the connection completely for his efforts. _:Let your betters handle this, kid.:_

Silverbolt hadn't heard that last comment as he'd already been disconnected, and he pinged them urgently to be let back in when his passwords failed.

"Primus, is Starscream doing in-flight repairs and hacking the base computer at the same time?" Jazz said, disbelieving. Booting Silverbolt from the chat required direct access to the base's AI.

"Not any more." Prowl's hands flew over the controls. Starscream had jacked into the base computer. This was not a terminal to Teletraan, fortunately, but it did connect to one of the auxiliary AI's they'd installed at strategic human bases. "I've firewalled him off. He's not able to do more than be a pest."

"And a hero," Ratchet murmured, as he watched the telemetry and the video. With one aileron, a rudder, two functioning flaps, and two elevators, and a hydraulically controlled door strategically deployed for drag, Starscream brought Skyfire out of the spin and slowed his descent to near stall speed.

"If he hadn't attacked Skyfire in the first place, I'd be more inclined to congratulate him." Blaster vented an aggravated hiss.

Ratchet ignored that - it went unsaid - and demanded, in his best matter-of-fact CMO voice, _:Starscream, burst me a medical report on the casualties.:_

Aloud, unheard by Starscream, Blaster said, "I can regain control of Skyfire's motor functions, if need be."

"Negative, Blaster." Optimus had his fists balled, sure sign of frustration. "Let Starscream guide him down. He is in a better position to do so safely."

Prowl added, "Primus only knows what Starscream would do if you interfered. We may regain remote control, but he has physical access to Skyfire's frame."

"Point." Blaster shifted uneasily in his seat. "Steeljaw's still out, guys. I mean he's _down. _I'm not getting nothin' from him but spark resonance."

Starscream's response to Ratchet's request for medical details, after a long delay, was, _:Bit busy, here. And mine or yours?:_

_:Skyfire first.:_

_:Full stasis lock. Neural cortex and spark containment within acceptable parameters.: _Starscream then burst a credible medical report at them.

Ratchet's optic ridges both rose. He had not expected cooperation, much less competence.

_:Skywarp ditched and sank. He's going to be pissy when you pull him up. Don't offline him if you want my cooperation later; he may be a slagging glitch, but he's my glitch.:_

_:Understood.: _Ratchet said, as Starscream sent them a burst of medical data on Skywarp that implied considerable structural damage, but nothing life threatening. _:He's a tough slagger, isn't he?:_

_:Skyfire isn't reinforced for combat,: _was Starscream's absent response.

_:And Soundwave and the symbionts?:_

_:Damned if I know.: _Starscream's response was unconcerned. _:He hasn't moved. I'll be in touch. Ta, mechlings!: _

The connections - both audio, and to Skyfire's motor controls - were abruptly replaced by the hissing snarl of electronic intereference.

"SLAG!" Blaster slammed the palm of his hand down on the desk. Ratchet was impressed it had taken him this long to lose his composure.

The only reason Ratchet didn't throw a tantrum of his own was hyperfocus on the medical issues. Repairing both Skyfire and Skywarp was going to require depressingly large amounts of rare alloys. Of course, they knew of a few dead Cybertronians scattered about the city. He sent a quick, encrypted, request to Ironhide to scavenge the corpses before the Decepticons did.

Not that he really wanted to use the Slagmaker's struts to repair Skyfire, but beggers couldn't be choosers.

Jazz had somehow moved to stand beside Blaster, even as Ratchet sent a second message to First Aid with a request to send parts for the cassettes.

First Aid responded with, _:What happened to the symbionts?:_

_:Slag if I know. Just send everything we have.:_

_:Understood. 'Aid out.:_

_-_

Frenzy woke slowly to a world full of pain and critical error messages.

_**Reserve energon levels 4.68%.**_  
_**Stasis lock imminent.**_  
_**Engage voluntary stasis protocols? Y/N**_

_**No**_**, **he instructed, for now. He would go into involuntary stasis when his reserve energon hit .5%, like it or not. However, he probably had leaks. If nothing else, he needed to try to patch the leaks before shutting down again.

_**Core temperatue 365K**_  
_**Coolant levels 10%**_  
_**Switch to battery power? Y/N**_

**Yes, **he instructed, and his power plant idled itself. That would also help conserve energon. He only had enough battery power to last about an hour, but that should give him time to replace the coolant and patch whatever was leaking.

His optics were offline. He pinged them, and got garbage code back. With a groan, he reached up to touch the damage ... and a warm hand caught his arm. He recognized Soundwave's field as if it were an extension of his own, and started to relax. Soundwave would repair him. He relaxed trustingly into Soundwave's hands.

Then, belatedly, he remembered that Soundwave was permanently damaged, they had been attacked by seekers, and neither he nor Soundwave were technically armed. (The laser scalpel and six foot length of angle iron in his subspace didn't count. He had a perfectly legitimate reason or ten for having welded the butt of the laser scalpel to the end of the iron beam, and it wasn't to make a spear. He sometimes needed a cutting blade with more reach than his short arms could provide. That was the story, and he was sticking to it.)

He tried to reach into his subspace for the weapon even before fully booting. Soundwave caught his wrist, warning flaring across the bond between them. Soundwave's fingers probed at his optics when he reluctantly slumped back to the ground, and he smelled hot solder. There was a brief burst of heat/pain/connection, and suddenly he could see.

"Thanks." He touched his face gingerly, but found little other damage. "Slag, you lost your visor."

Soundwave tapped the side of his face, indicating his bared optics, and pulsed frustration/irritation/anxiety through their bond at Frenzy.

"Where is it?" Frenzy asked, then automatically started to repeat himself slower. "Where ... is ... " he caught himself, and slapped a hand to his face. "Fuck me running. Sorry, boss."

Soundwave caught Frenzy's chin, and held his face still, inspecting his work. He nodded in satisfaction, ignoring Frenzy's words in favor of checking his repairs.

"So he's not totally glitched," Starscream's voice made Frenzy jump. He spun free of Soundwave's grasp to see Starscream standing silently a few feet away, arms folded over his chest, systems in quiet mode.

Starscream, stressed, tended to forget the cultured Iaconian accent he tried to assume. His voice would become reedy, nasal, and full of clipped tonalities. He'd been raised until his legal majority solely as a warrior and had spoken Vosian exclusively as a mechling. Coupled with his damaged vocalizer, the effect was a harsh voice that had well earned him his name.

Frenzy had overheard Starscream speak pure Vosian only a few times; technically, it was a dialect of Cybertronian, but the idiomatic phrasing and altered timing and tonalities had rendered it incomprehensible at first. Only after he'd replayed recordings over and over, and used his imagination to decipher unfamiliar idioms, had he understood what Starscream was saying.

However, at the moment, his voice was reasonably smooth and calm. He sounded almost perfectly upper class. In reaction to that indication of Starscream's mood, Frenzy relaxed. "Hey, commander."

"Lord, now." Starscream corrected, though a databurst that accompanied that correction rendered it purely informational. He wasn't being rebuked for using the wrong title.

"You shot Skyfire down?" Frenzy asked, for lack of anything else to say, "I thought ya were buddies."

Starscream's lips twisted into a thin smile. "The plan was to force him down, not shoot him. The crazy glitch rammed Skywarp."

"Oh." He digested that. "Skywarp's got better armor, but Skyfire's got a lot more mass. Who won?"

Starscream laughed, genuinely amused at his question. Frenzy had intended that. He knew Starscream very, very, well, and that included how to bring out his good side. "They tied. - You didn't answer my question about your master. He's doing better than I expected, but not talking, correct?"

Frenzy shrugged. "He talks."

"Over the bond between you?" Starscream seemed truly curious.

Frenzy lifted a shoulder up in half a shrug, unsure how to answer that. The plan had been to _discretely _translate for Soundwave, not give a medical status report in the first five minutes. He finally said, "He's a communications specialist. Give him some credit!"

Belatedly, he realized they were short a mech. Two mechs, really. He was _rattled_, Frenzy realized. The crash, and hard shut down, had fragmented his files. He was processing at a woefully inadequate speed while his systems attempted to do a live defrag. He also had a number of automated diagnostics operating in his RAM, slowing his data processing down further.

"Where's Steeljaw?" Frenzy blurted. "And Skyfire?"

"Why do you care about the Autobots?" Starscream's gaze turned sharply calculating.

He had no good answer to that. He just wasn't thinking fast enough. His dismay must have shown in his expression, because Starscream barked a sharp laugh. "The cat's scrap. And since you're _not_, I'm going to go work on Skyfire. Welcome back, bitlet."

_Welcome back_.

Back to the 'cons? Had Starscream just welcomed him ... had Starscream been _worried _about him?

He glanced up at Soundwave, wishing he could ask Soundwave for his opinion. Soundwave stared after Starscream for a moment, then scooped Frenzy up. He carried Frenzy several long strides down the beach and then deposited him next to Steeljaw.

Steeljaw was wrapped in a tarp from Skyfire's hold and Frenzy couldn't even sense his presence until he was next to him. The Autobot was motionless, lights out, all systems apparently offline. _Dead_, Frenzy thought, but training took over from horror, and he pulled the fabric back and crouched to do a closer inspection. The feline's spark still warmed his chest, and he could feel the slight hum of basic life support systems.

He had taken damage, but it seemed to be repaired. Steeljaw's neck was missing several plates of armor, and Frenzy could see that Soundwave had welded broken spinal struts back together. Brand new neural wiring was brightly colored, and not yet faded from heat and operational grunge.

Soundwave reached into his subspace and produced a datapad. He wrote on it, "Damage, repaired. No reboot."

When Soundwave handed the datapad down to him, Frenzy produced a stylus from his own subspace and questioned, "Boot sequence errors?"

"Probable."

"Stable?"

"Negative."

_Slag_, he thought, as Soundwave crouched next to him. Soundwave stroked a hand over Frenzy back struts gently, then took the datapad back. "Frenzy, attempt repair. Order."

"You don't need to order me to do this, boss," Frenzy said aloud. He was already pulling data cables out of his subspace. Ratchet could do this sort of repair with his optics off, and while calculating fractals with the majority of his processor, but Frenzy didn't know when - or if - the Autobots would get here. Since Soundwave couldn't do it, and he didn't trust Starscream any farther than he could throw him even if he'd had a reason to help Steeljaw, that left Frenzy.

He sat down on the sandy tarp next to Steeljaw's still form, resting his back against Steeljaw's shoulders. Intimate experience with his lover's frame let him find the ports he needed by touch alone. He connected the cables, and then plugged in himself.

Steelie's processor was completely offline except for the most limited of autonomic functions. He triggered a boot sequence and winced as a crazed collection of errors assaulted his own processor.

Steeljaw, it seemed, had crashed _badly_.

Frenzy aborted the boot sequence, and brought up a diagnostic menu. He had to hack through a primitive firewall to activate the options. However, that was simple enough to do.

It seemed Steeljaw's boot files had become corrupted. He found the audit trail, and backtracked, looking for the source of the problem.

_There_.

One of Steeljaw's sensor mods was throwing an unexpected hardware error, and this had caused a cascade failure of the boot sequence. His operating code autorepair had attempted to correct for the damage, but a bad driver for another mod had aborted the autorepair's routine correction. It was ridiculously simple, and, at the same time, a startling reminder that they were at _war_. This was the kind of idiotically stupid hardware crash that got mechs dead.

Steeljaw's autonomic systems were running on batteries. When the batteries ran out, there would be nothing to tell his power plant to kick on. He would simply die of energy starvation, with a full tank of energon.

Factory-original frames would never have errors like this. Unfortunately, modifications introduced new variables. Once upon a time, custom modifying of factory frames had been done only by the most elite engineers, and only after exhaustive testing of both the hardware and matching code. It had been very expensive, and generally done only by the very wealthy or the military.

Frenzy scowled. Wheeljack, with all his expertise and creativity for raw design, was definitely not good at the lateral thinking or critical analysis needed for _safety_. He was very much a linear thinker - he had ideas, and goals, and worked with singe minded focus. Frenzy, who had been taught to evaluate the personalities of mechs with an eye to strengths and weaknesses by his master, had already noted that Wheeljack tended to overlook potential _problems _associated with those ideas.

He'd created many of Steeljaw's mods. He'd done a good - even remarkable - job, given war time conditions. However, he had missed some faults in the design. Ratchet, who oversaw his work, had also missed the possibility for problems here.

Frenzy, who - with his brother - had repaired, modified, or built-from-scratch any number of communications installations. Though a comsat was nowhere near as complicated as a Cybertronian, they'd generally used scavenged or repurposed parts. They'd spent as much time debugging as building things. He shuttered his optics for a moment, suddenly missing Rumble for a whole new reason. Frenzy was good at debugging once a problem was identified. Rumble had been good at seeing _flaws_. Together, with Rumble making things break, and Frenzy finding fixes, they'd built some kick-ass machines.

Soundwave, crouching next to him, touched his arm. The emotions in his spark were painful to feel. Soundwave felt helpless and frustrated and depressed. Before he'd been injured, Soundwave could have fixed Steeljaw's systems in a klik.

"I can fix it. Give me a minute to think this through." He examined the code closely, then backed it up and made several obvious changes. Then he scanned the whole mess of drivers and boot sequences for any other lurking problems. He found one more conflict between Steeljaw's optics and a thermal sensor, and wrote a work-around.

Frenzy sighed, and rubbed the pliable metal under his optics with his fingers. His own systems were lagging, and pointed messages suggesting immediate shut down and defrag kept popping up in his HUD. He had no doubt that Steeljaw needed a more complete overhaul of his operational code, and equal conviction that he didn't have the free RAM right now to do so. Besides, it would be invasive. He needed Steeljaw's permission - and likely the permission of the Autobot commanders - to delve that deep into Steeljaw's coding.

They wouldn't grant that permission.

That was a bitter, painful realization. He was not an Autobot, he had security clearance of nil, and it was one small step from repairing code to hacking memories and data. Frenzy represented a risk that they couldn't take. He doubted there would be any repercussions from his emergency repairs to Steeljaw's code, but they would find somebody else to do the in-depth analysis his drivers needed.

'Somebody else' would be Wheeljack himself, Perceptor, Skyfire, or Ratchet, Frenzy supposed. Wheeljack lacked the lateral thinking abilities. Perceptor certainly had the ability, but not the experience. He was a scientist, not an engineer of either hardware or software. Skyfire had the same issue, compounded by eons of slumber. His knowledge of current programming protocols was vastly out of date.

_Maybe Jazz or Prowl could help_, Frenzy thought, allowing himself to think outside the box a bit. Neither were medics - or engineers - but Jazz was special ops, and had started out as a scout and spy. Frenzy knew for a fact that Jazz could hack his way through a mech's defenses with frightening speed and skill. Prowl, by contrast, had an impressively advanced processor and at least some coding experience. Frenzy didn't know how much.

Ratchet was very, very, very good at coding. Frenzy didn't understand why he hadn't fixed Steeljaw's drivers himself. He should have caught the problems and corrected them before Steeljaw was ever released from the medbay after an upgrade.

He sighed aloud. He'd bring the problem up to Prime and Ratchet, and let them figure out what they wanted to do. Hopefully, the answer wouldn't be 'nothing.' He had a nasty suspicion that Ratchet just had too many things to do and not enough time, and had a bit too much faith in Wheeljack's engineering skills.

Steeljaw's boot sequence went smoothly this time. After a moment, Steelie's optics lit and he sat up abruptly, looking around. It was almost dawn on this lonely beach. In the morning half-light, his plating gleamed and his expression, alive though it was with confusion, was most welcome.

"Welcome back," Frenzy said, softly.

Steeljaw suddenly winced, ducking his head. His ears flattened out and his armor clamped flat. Aloud, he said, "How long was I out?"

"Hours. Total shut down."

"Hold on a sec - Blaster's glitching out." Steeljaw flashed Frenzy a quick grin. "Not to mention the rest of my sibs."

Frenzy smiled faintly. Blaster, normally cool and collected, could easily have hit a state of irrational panic by now. Carrier instincts to defend their symbionts ran deep.

"Whew." Steeljaw finally said, looking up. Mischief sparkled in his optics. "I think he was worried. Where are we?"

Frenzy shrugged. "A beach, somewhere. Starscream's around. I'm guessing there's nowhere close to go because he's not trying to hold us prisoner, exactly."

"Where's Skyfire?"

Frenzy shrugged. "First concern was you."

"You hurt?"

"Not badly."

"And the big guy?" Steeljaw looked up at Soundwave, who was standing impassively by. "He's okay?"

"He's calm. Lost his visor somewhere."

Steeljaw flared his nostrils and inhaled a long draught of the cool morning air. All Frenzy could detect was the salty, decay-laced scent of ocean shore and a faint residual hint of noxious paint fumes, but Steeljaw rose and padded unerringly over a dune. Frenzy stood up to follow, but before he could take more than a few steps, Steeljaw returned with the visor in his teeth. "Starscream buried it."

"Why would Starscream bury ..." Frenzy shook his head. "He's playing mind games with us."

"Probably." Steeljaw inspected the visor, powered it on and off a few times, then passed it off to Soundwave.

Soundwave was silent, looking both pensive. He clipped the visor into place, then said quietly, "Starscream: Unplanned encounter."

"No shit." Steeljaw agreed, then started to explain define the slang for Soundwave, "Err, I mean ..."

"Ratchet: teach profanity." Soundwave's amusement was reflected by a quick flash of a grin from Frenzy.

"Did he, now?" Frenzy chuckled. Steeljaw relaxed a little, relieved that Soundwave at least understood the context.

"Affirmative. Profanity, fascinating subject."

"I would have loved to be a fly on that wall ..."

"Suggestion: Continue discussion need docking. Situation, unsafe. Planning, required. Private conversation, preferred."

Steeljaw nodded. "Blaster's pretty much ordering me into your dock anyway - I scared him pretty bad."

Soundwave knelt, rested one hand on Frenzy's shoulder, and looked Steeljaw directly in the optics. "Information to Blaster: Soundwave _die _prefer to harm coming symbionts. Steeljaw, Frenzy friend. Steeljaw, Soundwave friend. Assumption of protection, understood."

Frenzy made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "He means that, too, Steelie. I think if he'd met you earlier, before you bonded to Blaster, we'd have defected just so he could have a chance at your spark. You have a fan."

Apparently embarrassed, Steeljaw looked sharply away. "I'm just a cassette, guys. But - thanks, Soundwave. It's comforting to know I've got friends. I didn't, once."

"Frenzy, same. Commonality, Frenzy, Steeljaw."

"Eh. I had my brother and a pack of rejects to hang with. My situation was different than his, boss. Steelie almost died because he had _nobody _who cared."

Soundwave's docking door opened. "Come. Safer."

Frenzy forced down the terrible memories of violence and _loss _and forced himself into the warmth of Soundwave's dock. It didn't _feel _safer. On the other hand, Steeljaw nestled trustingly beside him. He could feel the warmth from Steeljaw's systems, and Steeljaw's confidence helped him draw his shattered nerves together.

Soundwave, he could sense, had a potent longing for Steeljaw. He would not act on that attraction, for many reasons. Frenzy would have sighed had he not currently been folded into cassette form. If not for so many obstacles, Steeljaw would be perfect to join their family. However, he also knew that Steeljaw wasn't interested. He would never belong to Soundwave.

It hurt. It would be the easy answer to all their problems, but Steeljaw's bond with Blaster was obvious, unwavering, and fierce. Frenzy knew to the depths of his spark that if Steeljaw had to chose between Frenzy - via a bond with Soundwave - and remaining with Blaster, Blaster would win. Frenzy knew he was just not that important.

-

Blaster wadded up a ball of paper and threw it in a high arc into a trash can in Prime's office. "He's fine. Scared to death, but otherwise fine. Sounders and Frenzy fixed him up."

"Tell him we'll get him back," Prime rubbed his forehead with two fingers. "We will get _all _of them back."

The latter was said with a significant glance in Ratchet's direction. Ratchet was silent, too quiet, arms folded over his chest. He looked sullen, but Prime thought he was more likely terrified. He'd let himself _care_, not just on a professional level, or a friendly level, but on a _personal _level.

Prowl shifted his stance slight, door wings pinning in tight to his body. Long experience drew the attention of the others towards him; Prowl's body language was always subtle, but to those who knew him well, it was clear he had something he wanted to say. Prowl pressed his lips tightly together for a moment, then said bluntly, "And what if the 'cons want to stay with Starscream?"

"Oh, please." Ratchet rolled his optics. "Soundwave's made his new loyalties clear. He'll be back. Or dead, trying."

_:I swear to you, Ratchet. I will do everything in my power to prevent his demise.: _Prime, always sensitive to the individuals under his command, spoke privately to Ratchet. His concern was real, but also, Ratchet felt, misplaced.

_:Don't.: _Ratchet glanced in Prime's direction, with optics that were cool as ice. _:Don't risk Autobots lives. Not just because I ...: _Ratchet's fans stuttered briefly with an emotional hiccup, making Prowl, Jazz, and Ironhide look curiously at him. _:not because he's my lover. I can't ask for that level of sacrifice from the others. He's still the enemy, y'know? And I get that.:_

Prime said aloud, and not just for Ratchet's benefit, "Neither Frenzy nor Soundwave are _Decepticons. _I have granted them asylum, and with that comes certain assumptions. One of those assumptions is that, in exchange for their cooperation and their very needed assistance, they fall under _my _protection. They are not Autobots, but we are responsible for their welfare. We will rescue all four captured mechs. Is that _clear_?"

The Prime's brilliant blue optics seemed to pierce through to Ratchet's spark. He realized he'd disappointed Optimus, somehow, and worse - he'd disappointed _himself_.

Ratchet had always believed in the sanctity of all life. _All _mechs had worth. Yet he had just suggested his own lover was not _worth _the same level of sacrifice as the two captured Autobots. Confusion shifted to dismay. When had his ethics and his morals become twisted? He had, for a moment, believed his own words. He had thought that Soundwave and Frenzy did not deserve an equal effort to rescue as the Autobots.

He had been wrong.

He didn't say much as the rest of the officers discussed the situation. His mind was racing, shame and confusion and bitter darkness all mixing together to render him near speechless. Grief welled up. He'd lost so _many _friends. He couldn't bear to lose more.

And when had his spark become so hardened, so cynical?

His processor was looping his conscious thoughts around the horribleness of losing Soundwave, and the shamefulness of his momentary assumption that Soundwave wasn't worth the life of an Autobot. He barely heard Optimus dismiss the others, and then he rose to shuffle after them.

"Ratch."

He turned. He couldn't remember the last time that Optimus had called him by a nickname. Once upon a time, Optimus had been younger and far less reserved. Once, Optimus had any number of affectionate names for him. Those times were long past, however. Optimus had become a Prime, dignified and regal.

However, he couldn't help but think that it wasn't Prime looking at him now, but Orion Pax, his oldest friend. The change in Optimus's bearing was subtle, but unmistakable.

Optimus crossed the room with two long, leggy strides. Ratchet stiffened his back struts, not wanting the comfort that he knew Optimus would insist on pushing upon him. He would not shove his friend away, but he couldn't bring himself to welcome Optimus's comforting embrace, either.

Prime generally - but not always - respected his space. Orion had been far more likely to drape an arm around his shoulders, to tackle him in an exuberant hug, or to respond to Ratchet's sorrows with a comforting embrace. He had been irritated by the constant _touching; _he would never admit how much he sometimes missed the irritatingly and disarmingly friendly youngling that Optimus had once been.

"It's okay to love him." Optimus pulled Ratchet against his chest.

"Optimus ..." Ratchet wanted to push himself away. He didn't need this, and didn't want it. And yet, he could hear the confident, steady pulse of Optimus's spark and the surrsurrations of his systems. He didn't need comfort, but slaggit all, he wished he was the kind of mech who could accept Optimus's touch. Their was nothing sexual in it; Optimus's love for him was purely platonic. Still, he was not comfortable.

Despite his discomfort, however, part of him wanted to collapse into Optimus's arms and bawl. He would not do so.

"Everything will turn out fine," Optimus repeated.

"Is that Orion talking, or Prime?" Ratchet demanded, a little crankily. He just couldn't bring himself to submit to Optimus's comfort without prickling a few spines out.

Optimus tensed for a second, then answered in a subdued tone, "Orion, with an educated guess from the Matrix."

Ratchet sighed out his vents, a soft _pfft _sound that held less derision than his words would have otherwise implied. "Save your 'educated guesses' for the troops. We both know you're mortal, Optimus. You want things to turn out right, but sometimes they don't. We're just as likely to get all four back as spare parts. If we get them back at all."

He rested his helm against Optimus's chest, since Prime showed no signs of letting go.

Once upon a time, Prime might have reacted with an inspirational speech. They were long past that point. Optimus loosened his arms enough that Ratchet could take a step back, and Ratchet found his gaze drawn inexorably upwards to Optimus's blue optics. Optimus said firmly, "Ratch, don't ever change."

"Hnh?"

"Your grasp of reality is sometimes necessary, and you are one of the few mechs willing to speak the truth we all need to hear. However - why do you follow me?"

"You're my friend."

Prime smiled a little. "And if you didn't like my plans or ideas?"

"I'd have told you where you could stick that Matrix." Ratchet felt a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're my friend _and _I believe in your ethics, your morals, and your dreams. So yes, I follow you. You haven't steered me wrong yet."

"You have faith in me."

"Yes." His spark spun a little faster as he said that. What was Prime up to? His loyalty to Optimus had always been unspoken, but assumed by both of them to be unshakable. To say he had faith in Prime aloud prompted a more profound reaction than he'd anticipated.

"You trust my judgement and intuition."

"Generally speaking, yes. As long as we don't mix you with high grade and Starscream."

And _that _was a reminder of a very different time, and a far younger mech. He had still been Orion then, and Starscream had been, well, Starscream. Optimus's optics widened in surprise, and then a smile teased around his lips. "I'd like to think I can handle my intoxicants better, now."

Ratchet snorted. "You don't. You just don't get drunk."

"And that, my friend, is the wisdom of the Matrix." Optimus's low chuckle was rueful. "And speaking purely from my own spark, those were enjoyable days."

"Heh. You could always invite Starscream over for old time's sake." Ratchet was half-joking, half testing. He wanted to know what Optimus's near term goals were.

Optimus finally released Ratchet entirely. Ratchet took a step back and folded his arms over his chest. Optimus knew him well enough not to be offended by his quick retreat, he hoped. He could only take so much warm-fuzziness before he choked on it.

His friend, now leader of Cybertron's last, best hope, and all that slag, said with great dignity, "That is an excellent idea. I will imbibe less, however. I am too old and my schedule far too full for inconvenient after-effects."

"Look at it this way: there's nobody who could throw you in a cell to sleep it off." Ratchet flashed him a grin.

"If I ever become so intoxicated that borrowing a jet pack and playing tag with seekers in a residential sector in the early AM hours sounds like a good idea ... I trust _you _to lock me up until my sanity returns." Optimus clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the door of his office. Before they reached it, however, he said one final time, "Ratchet, I will do everything in my power to get them back. This, I swear to you."

"... thanks."

There wasn't much else he could think to say.

-


	22. Chapter 22

Author's notes: Still not dead. Still intending to finish all the stories I've posted. Wish there were more hours in a day.

* * *

Starscream was up to his elbows in Skyfire's chassis when the early morning sun was blocked by a tall, solid form. He looked up and said, "Do you _mind _getting out of my light?"

"Assistance, offered," Soundwave said, speaking so naturally that it took Starscream a couple nanoclicks to remember that the carrier should not be able to speak at all.

"We-elll," Starscream said, voice going sing-song with sarcasm, "Looky who's been holding out on me. So you _can _talk."

"Affirmative." There was a slight delay before Soundwave added. "And, negative. No attempt at deception intended. My language abilities are damaged."

"That scan they gave Megsie had to have been faked. It showed your CPU was half slagged. What the slag game were they playing at?" Starscream couldn't decide what the _point _had been, but it had to have been a trick. He'd seen Soundwave's purported medical records.

"There was no game." Soundwave crouched beside Starscream. Starscream had already noted that Soundwave's right leg did not seem to be operating within normal parameters. However, the tall mech moved with surprising grace and power as he dropped to one knee beside Skyfire's still frame, and so close to Starscream that the seeker could feel the vented hot air from his frame.

They had never been friends, but Starscream found he didn't actually mind Soundwave in his space. Soundwave could be a surprisingly dangerous warrior, but not unless he was directly provoked. Over their long history, he had proven to be far more of a _political _threat.

It was, however, odd behavior for Soundwave to be anything but distant and aloof. Soundwave normally kept his distance from everyone, both emotionally and physically. He only allowed his family of symbionts in his personal bubble. However, now Soundwave ran a hand over Skyfire's motionless, scuffed plating as if comforting the unconscious mech.

After a long moment, Soundwave said, "I have significant and permanent loss of function. Therefore, compensatory behavioral modifications are extensive."

"And you're admitting this to me ... why?"

He swore he heard a smile in Soundwave's voice as he answered, "Analysis: For interaction with Starscream, honesty is the best strategy. Question: Does Starscream trust Soundwave and Frenzy?"

"... sometimes. Maybe. Why? It depends on what you mean by _trust _and what you want."

He was really wary, now. He didn't know where this conversation was going. Soundwave had been Megatron's pet lap dog. They had never been allies. On the other hand, as 'cons went, Soundwave was reliable and -as he'd stated - generally truthful. He was also pragmatic to the very core of his spark. With a sudden flash of insight, he realized that Soundwave would be looking for a new master.

Starscream knew very well that Soundwave's number one priority was survival, simple as that. The mech did not bear grudges, other than using past experience to predict future behavior of other mechs.

Starscream eyed Soundwave speculatively. He could use all the good lackeys he could find. They could never _trust _one another, but they certainly understood each other. Soundwave would make a fine assistant. It wasn't as if Soundwave would get a better offer anywhere else, right? Surely, Soundwave was being honest with him because Soundwave was considering him as a new master.

There was a faint click, and then _two _voices, one clearly belonging to Frenzy, said as one, "We're working together so that Soundwave can speak clearly."

Soundwave and Frenzy were _bonded_. He hadn't forgotten that fact, he just hadn't thought through all the implications. Frenzy, he supposed, was in direct spark-to-spark communication with his boss over their quantum bond, and was then speaking for him. It made sense. He had not had time to review Soundwave's medical file entirely before things had gotten ugly, but he could picture which circuits must have been saved for Frenzy to be able to speak to Soundwave via their bond.

He shuddered at the idea of being that intimately reliant on anyone else. His bond with his trine wasn't anywhere near that complete. Still, he understood how it could work. "Okay, I get it. Frenzy's helping you. But from what I saw of the docbot's files, your higher processing functions are still in good shape."

"Affirmative. Communication and sensory arrays were damaged. Query: Status of Soundwave, prisoner or potential ally?"

"You're never anything but blunt." Starscream pulled a rag out of his subspace and scrubbed Skyfire's energon from his hands. "Ally. Maybe. If you're not out for my energon. Depends on _your _plans."

"Preference: ally."

"Heh. Never thought I'd hear _you _say that to _me_." Starscream waved a hand dismissively in the air. "What's the deal with you and the Autobots? I figured you'd be shackled and sedated if they were going to move you."

Soundwave pulled a tool box out of his subspace. "Literal answer to deal with Autobots: Soundwave granted asylum in exchange for assistance."

He shouldn't have been surprised, though he found he was, and a scowl crossed his face. The nature of a carrier's hard coded programming meant that they were more vulnerable than most to what humans would term 'Stockholm syndrome.' He'd even warned Megatron in the past that Soundwave's hard coded core programming could be an issue. Megatron had always been blindly faithful in Soundwave's loyalty and had never listened. The war would have gone so differently if Megatron had only _listened _to him.

"You betrayed us." He wondered why he didn't feel more outrage. His words came out with flat distaste, but he couldn't summon a hissing fit of anger. He was, however, disappointed. Soundwave had already found himself a new master. For a nanoclick, he'd let himself imagine what it would be like to have an utterly loyal supporter. He could have _trusted _Soundwave to be his second in command, with no chance of betrayal.

"Megatron, betrayed Soundwave." Soundwave gave Starscream a level look, chin rising. Starscream was certain that optic contact happened in that moment, even though he couldn't actually _see _Soundwave's eyes. (And the slagger had found the damned visor - Starscream had hoped to gain a psychological upper hand by taking it away before Soundwave had regained consciousness after the crash. Sometimes, he thought Soundwave was psychic as well as telepathic.)

"Like he hasn't done that before."

"Observation: Megatron never betrayed Soundwave prior to incident at the Ark."

"You always were his golden boy." Starscream couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. Soundwave was right. He'd never been double-crossed by the tyrant before. Megatron had abused Starscream a thousand times, but had never lifted so much as a hand to Soundwave.

"Megatron attempted euthanasia when hope for my useful function remained. Loyalty does not require submitting to pointless murder at the whim of one's master. Additionally, Megatron attempted to kill Frenzy. This, unforgivable." Soundwave paused, then added, "Continuing function contingent on finding a more empathetic master."

Starscream snorted. "So you joined the Autobots. How perfectly wonderful for you. What did you have to offer them for your continued care?"

Bitterly, he thought that whatever the Autobots had offered, it had been a far better deal than what Starscream himself could come up with. He had never had a chance to become Soundwave's master. As he was well aware, Soundwave's first priority was his own survival, and the Autobots were in the best position to ensure that.

Soundwave shifted slightly, and the emitted first sigh that Starscream had ever heard from the big mech. "Only myself."

"And probably half our secrets." The obvious innuendo occurred to him, but surely Soundwave wasn't bargaining for his place with his body. The Autobots were too slagging goody-two-shoes to accept even if Soundwave had offered. Anyway, the mech had been reluctant to 'face even with Megatron and had _coldly _turned Starscream down the one and only time he'd been both intoxicated enough and lonely enough to make a pass at him. Anyway, according to Megatron, Soundwave was a passionless lover, with all the enthusiasm of a well-programmed drone.

"Resumption of communication abilities, slow. Once clear communication possible, significant time had elapsed. Intelligence was degraded in value."

"And they didn't just hack you to extract it?"

"Negative. Medical condition, fragile. Soundwave still cannot be hacked without invasive procedures to create direct neural links."

Starscream snorted. "Megatron wouldn't have cared. He'd have extracted the info if he had to do it one electron at a time."

"Soundwave, well aware of Megatron's interrogation procedures." That response was very dry. He would have laughed had he suspected that Soundwave was being humorous. Soundwave had _done _many of those interrogations himself.

The tall, solid carrier turned his attention to Skyfire's open chassis. He leaned forward and peered into the mess that was Skyfire's innards for a moment, then observed, "Skyfire requires extensive surgical repairs."

"I've pinged the Autobots." Starscream rubbed at a bit of energon on his arm with the thumb of his other hand. He had done so an hour before, and had received a terse response from Prowl that Optimus would speak to him in due course. "I'm waiting for them to respond back."

"There is a high probability that the Autobots are in conference with the human authorities."

"And possibly debriefing Skywarp." Starscream's idiot trinemate had his side of the bond locked down tight, but he had - briefly - reported that a human aircraft carrier had winched him up off the ocean floor. He'd been given the choice of _walking _home from his location on the ocean bottom, or putting on stasis cuffs and sitting on the deck until the Autobots arrived.

Starscream had ordered him to _behave_, and follow human orders for anything short of commands that would lead to his own deactivation. Skywarp had not said anything to him since. He didn't know if the silence from his teammate meant he was pissed at Starscream, or if he was concealing the fact he was disobeying orders.

Well, the Autobots could deal with him. Starscream had full faith that they'd do so without actually offlining him. They were predictably honorable that way.

He added, since Soundwave said nothing, "I asked them to pick 'Warp up. He had to ditch in the ocean."

"Optimus desires an end to the war. They will not harm him. His repairs will be complete, and thorough."

Comforting words. Starscream found he believed Soundwave. Soundwave had been in their midst for several weeks. Certainly, that was long enough for the communications specialist to understand current Autobot motives and likely behavior.

Somewhat to his surprise, Soundwave then produced a wad of absorbent rags and two large bags of medical grade energon from his subspace. He handed Starscream one bag, and poured the other into the direct intake port for Skyfire's tank. Starscream moved forward, intending to add the second bag to Skyfire's tank, but Soundwave stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Commander's fuel status: very low."

"Skyfire needs it more." For all that they had not parted on good terms, he was _fond _of Skyfire. Plus, he was Air Commander of Cybertron. He never forgot that. Skyfire was one of _his _people, and he was jealously, possessively, protective of all that was his.

"Starscream, required for defense. Autobots will not start hostilities, however, Decepticon factions may initiate violent conflict at any time. We need you fully fueled."

Slaggit, Soundwave was right. Half the reason there was a lull in combat at the moment was the Decepticon fuel shortage. Both sides were running on fumes. If Astrotrain's faction got their hands on an energy source Starscream would be a primary target. His fuel pump whined a little faster at the thought.

Unhappily, he admitted, "I didn't intend to hurt the big idiot. We wanted to talk to Skyfire about ... a gentleman's agreement ... with the Autobots. We _need _fuel."

He had never expected Skyfire to fight back. Once, they'd been friends. Now, Skyfire considered him and his trine enough of an enemy to risk death by collision rather than submit to capture. He refused to think about just how much that desperate mistrust of his intentions hurt.

"Proposed terms of agreement?" Soundwave asked, voice calm but clearly interested.

Starscream shrugged, trying to hide his chaotic emotions with a casual atttitude. "We won't kill any squishies, and we'll do as little damage as possible. We just want the Autobots to look the other way when we obtain the energy we need. We'll deal with Astrotrain and his buddies ourselves, and then cease hostilities, get ourselves offworld, and leave Earth to your warm-shiny buddies. Optimus would be a fool not to accept - we'll be gone and the war will be _over_."

After a long, quiet moment of contemplation, Soundwave said, "Soundwave: Formally requesting to be liaison between factions."

"Like the Autobots will agree to that." He waved dismissively. "I can't imagine they'll do anything but take advantage of this mess to try to extinguish us. Nice offer, though. Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be scheming for peace."

"Prime agrees that I should serve in the role of a liaison. He does not desire your death. I ask that you remember my integrity."

Starscream wondered if he should reboot his logic circuits. "Why would the Autobots agree to _you _being the liaison?"

"Soundwave: efficient, motivated, intelligent, truthful. Lack of emotional lability and quick analytical abilities are an asset during negotiations. Prime is convinced of Soundwave's motives."

As he spoke, Soundwave continued to work on Skyfire's chassis. Starscream noted he was making quite skilled field repairs to stabilize the shuttle.

He snorted. "And why would the Autobots want _peace_ when they could have _conquest_? They can win. I don't need _your _processing power to see that."

There was silence, for a moment, from Soundwave. The only noise was the occasional click of a pair of metal snips as Soundwave cut away damaged wiring in Skyfire's chassis. Then he said, "Optimus suggests: Better term for my role, mediator. End of war, desired. My personal assessment: Optimus willing to make concessions to avoid any further loss of life. Our population numbers are too low. Extinction is one possible outcome of continued fighting. Optimus is aware of this."

"Tell me something I don't know ... and you're in contact with Prime. Now?" He hadn't detected any radio transmissions.

"Steeljaw, bonded to Blaster. Blaster is the Autobot communications specialist."

"... oh. You rebooted him." He scowled. "We should put the little glitch into stasis. We can't talk in privacy with Steeljaw listening."

Soundwave's response was stern. "Steeljaw, _my _responsibility. Damage to Steeljaw, unacceptable. Emotional trauma from forced stasis is damage."

"You courting him?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. He knew just enough about carrier culture to recognize that as a possibility. However, he was astonished that the Autobots would let Steeljaw associate with Soundwave if there was any chance that Steeljaw might break his bond with Blaster.

"Negative, Steeljaw, loyal to Blaster. Steeljaw is assisting with real-time communication with Autobots. Soundwave, entrusted with his care."

Translation: Touch the cat and feel the wrath of the carrier. Starscream was no fool, and made a mental note to consider Steeljaw off limits. Soundwave seemed to be unarmed, but Starscream was also well aware that the carrier was sneaky, clever, and good at improvisation when it came to weapons. Plus, Frenzy was every bit as dangerous as his master.

For that matter, Steeljaw had fighting skills all out of proportion to his size. The cat was a walking armory with a Cheshire grin.

"So what do the Autobots want? Unconditional surrender, Primus's coordinates, and my wings on their wall?" He couldn't quite keep a cynical sneer off his face. He just couldn't believe they'd be willing to work with him.

"Negative. Starscream's wings would not be desired. Observation: Optimus prefers to admire airborne fliers. However, Autobots decline terms of 'gentleman's agreement.' Optimus Prime suggests that now it is time for a truce between our factions."

"That doesn't get us _fuel_! He snarled the words, ignoring Soundwave's remark about his wings. Optimus liked winged mechs ... what?

Ignoring that, Soundwave's words seemed to confirm his fears: that the Autobots were not truly interested in helping. It just wasn't _enough _to offer a truce from the Autobot faction while the Decepticons slagged each other into oblivion. There would be nothing left of any of them, and the Autobots would win by default.

Maybe that was what they wanted. It was how _he _would handle matters if the roles were reversed. Not that he could imagine a coup among the Autobots. They were all in love with Optimus-slagging-Prime, to the last damned mech.

"Prime is offering unlimited energon to be used personal fueling needs, medical assistance with repairs and maintenance, plus shelter, including hardened bunkers for defensive purposes against enemies. He is also offering a mutual protection agreement."

He blinked. He hadn't been expecting that much. At all. Period.

"Whhhhhy?" He drawled the question out, sarcastic disbelief tinting his words.

"Optimus believes you are the best choice for a leader who can end this war. I believe his reasons for assistance are due to his desire to end the war, for reasons previously stated. Additionally, Optimus is kind and generous by nature. Starscream is aware of this. Their offer will not strain Autobot resources."

"No slag I'm the best choice to lead." He rolled his optics. His skill was obvious, though he was surprised that the Autobots would admit it. Then his practical side surfaced; he had not become Air Commander without having political and administrative experience. He said, slowly and cautiously, "What are the terms that they have in mind?"

"Terms of truce: No aggression towards humans or Autobots. Full cooperation in joint missions to seek and destroy renegade Cybertronians who threaten this world. Autobots have sufficient energon supplies to support your forces for months. However, a long term expansion of production and refinement capabilities will be required to meet projected future needs. Autobots will assist with negotiating human bureaucracy and acquiring the raw materials needed to construct energon plants. Optimus observes that technical assistance will probably be necessary, and he may wish to consult with you on some persistent issues they have been experiencing in regards to production."

Starscream was, for once, struck speechless. There was actually a compliment in there. The Autobots wanted _his _opinion on energon production issues? Yes, yes, he'd once been well-known scientist, with a specialty in energy production, but still. It had been a long war and he'd used most of his knowledge for the most of it making energetic _weapons_.

The thought of working in a research lab was very, very tempting. He glanced down at Skyfire. Deep longing twisted his spark. Oh, for the war to be over ... he remembered _happy _times, with Skyfire as his lab partner and dearest friend. He had so many ideas, filed away, that he'd never been able to follow up on for lack of time and lack of resources. Some of those directly dealt with energon production. He could _innovate _again, and be acclaimed not for his fighting skills but for the good he could bring to his race.

Soundwave added, "It is my personal belief that Optimus wishes to deal with the Decepticons both fairly and generously. You will not have difficulty in obtaining all you need for your people to thrive. You have an opportunity unlike any seen in generations. You should consider full cooperation. Reminder: Soundwave skilled at political analysis."

The latter was true. Soundwave was also known for being straightforward and for speaking the truth. They had known each other a long time, though not always as allies.

Starscream, stunned to silence, found his mind was awhirl with memories.

Starscream had first met the Soundwave when he'd been an aide-de-camp to Lady Fairwinds, a seeker senator. Soundwave had later attempted to claim (laughably) that he'd been Fairwinds' bonded and the heir to her estate, but Starscream couldn't hold that attempt at fraud against him. A _lot _of wealth had been involved in that scandal. No seeker would bond with someone as cold and _grounded_, without even a mobile alt mode, as Soundwave. But from Soundwave's standpoint, the ruse had certainly been worth a try. There had been persistent rumors that the two were lovers, and they _had _been close friends. It had been very unusual to see one without the other for almost ten earth years.

When a deep voice rumbled behind them, it distracted him from his brief musings over Soundwave's long and checkered history in Cybertronian politics. Optimus's voice was unmistakable, and Starscream whirled even as his battle protocols booted instantly.

"The traditional role of Air Commander, Starscream, has been to support and defend all Cybertronians by command of our airborne military forces, and also to seek out new resources for our world. Megatron was Lord High Commander, responsible for ground based defense. My role has always been that of a _civilian _ruler. I have not forgotten your role, nor that you were chosen by Primus to fill it."

He spun and gawped at the tall red and blue mech standing so proudly behind him. How in the _Pit _had Prime snuck up on them? Judging by Soundwave's swift turn to face Prime, he had not been aware of the Autobot's presence either.

Prime walked towards him, calm and regal. He was also not silent. His footfalls thudded on the sand, his gears whined and rattled, his hydraulics hissed, and his armor clanked. Prime wasn't built for stealth, so that meant he wasn't alone if he'd gotten this close without Starscream hearing him.

Starscream bristled, weapons coming alive and rising from under his armor, plating over vulnerable areas clamping tight, wings flaring up, combat routines making his circuits zing with aggression. "Stay back!"

Prime kept coming.

"I'll shoot!"

And then Prime was there, before him, looking him in the optics from only a single stride's distance away. "I believe you have the courage to hear us out, Starscream."

"Slaggitall, Optimus!" he spun away, anger rising even as his fear faded. This wasn't an attack. It was an ambush of a different kind.

Starscream was not surprised by the sound of one more heavy footfall on the sand, or Prime's gentle hand when it touched his arm. He should have shrugged it off, or even treated it as an assault. Optimus's quiet words quieted his impulse to respond violently, however. "Megatron forgot our roles. He forgot who _you _were, as much as he forgot _my _role."

"Ridiculous old superstitions! I'd be a better leader than either of you."

The hand rested there still, warming his plating. Optimus retained the hands of the scholar he had once been. His fingers were long, nimble, with blunt nails rather than shredding claws. He could have enhanced the power in his hands, and made them deadly weapons, but he had chosen to keep them dextrous and sensitive. Starscream had always been fascinated by this small detail. He found he could not force himself to move. He was not threatened by the gentle touch.

"Do you _really _wish to deal with recreating an economy from scratch, rebuilding infrastructure, and endless vorns of legal wrangling?" Optimus sounded almost amused, though his voice was low and soothing. "Nevermind acting as judge over a multitude of trials that can't be settled in lesser courts, mediating disputes between politicians, working with the media, and overseeing scores of complex and tedious religious ceremonies?"

Starscream scowled. Still, he did not pull away.

"I believe you want _your _old job back, not mine." Optimus's thumb stroked his arm's plating in soothing circles.

"What do you want from me?" He demanded, dismissing that kind voice. He didn't believe it. Optimus had been hardened and embittered by the war, just like the rest of them. Surely, there was malice and suspicion lurking in the spark of Prime, along with far too much charisma and acting ability.

He could not make himself jerk free of Optimus's grip.

"For now, all I wish is a simple agreement between us."

"Which is?" He wondered what game Optimus was playing at.

"As Soundwave stated, you will agree to cease all hostilities towards Autobots and humans alike. His assessment of my motivation is exactly correct. In exchange, we will provide you unlimited energon sufficient for normal operations and reasonable recreation."

"And in the long term?" His processor couldn't quite grasp the concept of _unlimited energon_. When was the last time he'd had enough energon for _recreation_? He wasn't sure what the Autobots would deem "reasonable" but the thought of being able to fly high and fast for the sheer joy of it, without a fuel ration to limit his freedom, was intoxicating.

"This world has ample energy resources. We will work together for our mutual benefit, with all three sides providing resources, labor, and technical expertise."

Three sides? "I refuse to work with that slagger Astrotrain."

"I was not referring to Astrotrain."

"The squishies?"

"Affirmative."

"You want me to help you build energon refineries for the squishies. Are you mad?" He wondered if _he _was the crazy one. It made a wild, crazy kind of sense.

"This war began over energy needs, Starscream. It continues for the same reason. I propose we eliminate the source of our strife. It will be easier to make a true and lasting peace if there is no reason left to fight."

Not so crazy, apparently. It made a slagging _lot _of sense. He'd almost forgotten Optimus's pragmatic streak, which was a good match for Soundwave's. He voiced one last objection. "You could poison our fuel."

"Test it, if you do not trust me. I have no desire to engage in combat simply because another mech's philosophical beliefs contradict my own."

He snorted. "You won't kill me for thinking wrong, eh?"

"Never."

He blew out a short, impatient sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But throw in medical care. Hook's an idiot, Knock Out is on Cybertron, and I have no idea where the Constructicons went. I think Glit went neutral a few millenia ago. And my people are pretty banged up."

Optimus flashed a brief smile smile. "Of course. We have already stabilized Skywarp and begun basic repairs. And as far as the Constructicons, all five of them showed up at the Ark four hours ago, asking for asylum. It has been granted. Glit is on earth, but you are correct about his neutral status."

"Slag me running." He clapped a hand over his face.

"Would you prefer Ratchet's care, or that of the Constructicons?"

He had no idea what was in the collective mind of that fragged-up gestalt. Would they see him as enemy or ally? "Ratchet's probably safer."

A snort came from behind Optimus. Optimus glanced back over his shoulders, and then made a silent hand gesture - one used during combat to direct troops - to summon others forward.

The troops quickly appeared from behind an illusion of sand dunes. Mirage and Hound were among them, which explained how the others - Optimus, Ratchet, Ironhide, Blades, _and _Springer - had arrived unseen and unheard.

He wasn't sure who had barked that quick laugh at his observation that Ratchet was safer. Possibly, it had been Ratchet himself. Defensively, he said to the medic, "Well, you are!"

"Starscream's observational faculties: excellent as usual." Soundwave spoke up, then addressed the medic directly. "Ratchet, Skyfire is in stable stasis, but urgent repairs are suggested. Sand and organic matter are present in energon lines and some damage to his power plant has occurred."

"How bad?" Ratchet hustled forward, sparing Starscream only the briefest of suspicious looks.

"Soundwave's in worse shape than Skyfire is, don't let him fool you," Starscream found himself saying. "He took a pretty good hit when Skyfire crashed."

And he found himself actually amused when the medic reached out and cuffed Soundwave upside the head. "Idiot. You should have _said _something."

"My damage is not critical."

"Neither is his. You, sit." Ratchet bullied Soundwave towards a nearby rocky outcrop by sheer force of will. Apparently addressing the symbionts docked with Soundwave, he added, "And that goes for both of you runts, too. You should have _said _something."

Something made Starscream look back at Prime in that instant. Optimus had retracted his face mask and a gentle smile touched his lip plates. Optimus realized he was being watched, but didn't bother to conceal the smile. Instead, he clapped a hand on Starscream's shoulder. "Come, Air Commander Starscream. We have much to talk about."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Author's notes: The OC character Killaglitch was introduced (briefly) in my back store Song and Ravage. It's not necessary to read Song and Ravage to understand this (and future) chapters, but they are related stories. Killa is Soundwave's progenitor's symbiont's child and grew up with Soundwave.

* * *

Ratchet, never fond of field operations, found he was immensely relieved to be back in his med bay. He firmly told himself that he could process his emotions later (or better yet, get thoroughly drunk); right now, he had work to do.

Soundwave, cooperative and trusting, settled onto the medical berth without hesitation. Ratchet gripped his shoulder briefly, with more tenderness and emotion than he would have shown any other mech, then got to work with his repairs. As Starscream had said, Soundwave had taken substantial structural damage in the crash.

Soundwave's operating system, somewhat to Ratchet's surprise, was still quite stable. His error logs indicated he'd suffered inertial forces of close to twelve earth G's when Skyfire had gone into a spin, which had been more than sufficient to trip some sensors. This had automatically caused a hard reboot. At a certain point, damage became inevitable when high gee forces from rapidly shifting vectors were involved. Some of that hardware damage, if timed exactly wrong, could introduce critical software errors to a live operating system. Therefore, automatic systems would put a mech into temporary stasis as it was simply better if the mech was offline until the crash was over.

When he'd rebuilt Soundwave, he had purposefully set those reboot thresholds low. Soundwave did not need any additional software errors. The only way to fix them would a hardwired connection to his cerebral cortex, and hours of writing corrections in Cybertronian trinary machine code. If a 'bot wasn't around who had the necessary coding skills, Soundwave would die.

Aside from Ratchet, that list of mecha with the knowledge needed was short: Jazz, First Aid, Wheeljack, and (surprising only to those who didn't know he coded his own security systems) Red Alert. Ratchet had a sneaking suspicion Frenzy also knew a good bit about machine coding giving his well-known skills as a hacker, but he didn't have the clock speed to keep up with a cascading crash or the networking ability to sync with a mech like Prowl or Skyfire and take advantage of their faster systems.

Fortunately, after Starscream had guided Skyfire in to a landing, Soundwave had automatically rebooted without incident. The subsequent stress of his encounter with Starscream and his undoubtedly painful injuries (which included popped welds and damaged spinal struts) had caused no new harm to his potentially glitchy operating system. Ratchet chalked that up to Soundwave's personality. Conditions that would cause many mechs (Red Alert!) to spazz to the point of glitching barely raised Soundwave's fuel consumption above baseline. He was just not prone to panic. He probably didn't see the point in panic. The mech made Prowl look neurotic.

If he were honest about himself, that absolute calm was one of the things Ratchet loved about him. Other mechs - Optimus! - were good at faking it, but Soundwave's calm was truly natural and spark deep. Ratchet remembered the night Soundwave had clung to him in terror, sobbing out grief and fear of things he had no words for, and near-silently sighed. He hadn't realized then just how badly affected Soundwave had been. Soundwave did not, without a great deal of reason, panic.

Soundwave had come a long way in a short time. That once-terrified mech had found his equilibrium, was forging a new life for himself with stubborn determination, and was far more emotionally stable than he had any right to be. If Ratchet had to sum up his feelings about Soundwave's recovery in one word, it would be respect. Very few mecha had courage and inner strength to match the carrier's. Ratchet should know; he'd watched the recoveries of too many permanently disabled mecha to count.

Ratchet's repairs of Soundwave's minor structural damage were done in short order. Ratchet booted Soundwave's systems and then removed his diagnostic cables; seconds later, Soundwave's optics flickered to life.

"Welcome back, big guy." Ratchet was unable to keep a trace of warmth from his normally curt and gruff bedside manner. Primus, he liked this mech. It wasn't just lust, or loneliness, that drew him to Soundwave. It was genuine, honest-to-Primus affection.

His words drew Skywarp's attention; the seeker was handcuffed to the next berth over. Skywarp made a sullen-sounding snort. The seeker had been a most reluctant and mistrustful patient. Ratchet, however, was ignoring him as inconsequential while he worked on Soundwave's repairs. He was restrained, and his warping abilities disabled. He didn't care what Skywarp thought.

Soundwave, by contrast, saw Ratchet, and a small smile touched his lips. There was simple pleasure and relief in that expression. Soundwave's expression, full of trust and affection, made Ratchet genuinely smile.

"Here." Ratchet offered Soundwave his visor.

Soundwave swiftly clipped it into place. Now able to speak, he asked, "Ratchet, gratitude. Status, Skyfire and Steeljaw?"

"They're fine. Skyfire's with Sunstreaker right now, getting his dents pounded out and repainted."

"... And Steeljaw?"

"Defragging. Your runt's with him - I sent them both off to get some rest." Ratchet smirked, but said nothing about other activities that had doubtless happened before the pair had "rested." While he still had misgivings about their relationship, they were, at least, still in the early stages of young love and probably having the time of their lives.

Soundwave flashed a quick smile. His battle mask wasn't closed yet.

Ratchet was used to seeing Soundwave emote. Skywarp, clearly, was not, because the seeker said incredulously, "What'd you do to Soundwave, docbot, reformat him?"

"Hnnh?" He glanced over at the seeker.

Soundwave's mask snapped shut. He turned to face Skywarp, and gave him far more attention than Ratchet had been willing to grant him. Tone impatient, he demanded, "Question, not understood. Clarify?"

"... ah." Skywarp tapped his own mouth. "I swear to Primus I just saw you smile."

One optic ridge rose from behind his visor, and Soundwave just looked at Skywarp like he'd grown a second cranium. How he managed to convey that much incredulity while wearing a visor, Ratchet wasn't sure, but clearly, Skywarp understood that look.

"... maybe I made a mistake ..." Skywarp muttered.

"Negative."

Ratchet recognized Soundwave's unique brand of humor as Soundwave turned back towards him. He'd left Skywarp confused, and Ratchet deeply amused. Ratchet clapped a hand on his shoulder in congratulations. "Any vertigo other than the usual?"

"Sensory status, no change previous state."

"Meaning you're still dizzy as hell and dealing with it." Ratchet slid a hand under his elbow and helped him off the berth. "You're cleared to go."

"Ratchet, require assistance?" Soundwave hesitated.

"No, but Prime wants to see you in an hour. Refuel first. We're at Vandenberg. You know where the rec is?" They were currently located at the Autobot operations center in southern California.

"Understood. Floor plan, memorized a long time ago." Soundwave grasped Ratchet's arm briefly, then limped out of the med bay. Ratchet shook his head in amusement at the absent reminder that Soundwave had once been the Decepticon spymaster. He probably knew the base's layout better than Ratchet did.

Skywarp made an incredulous sound. "He's got free run of the base?"

"Who, Soundwave?" Ratchet turned, reluctantly, from watching Soundwave leave and raised both optic ridges at Skywarp. "If Red's not watching him, I will have words with him."

That was because Soundwave was still at moderate risk of a glitch, not because Ratchet mistrusted him. He wasn't going to elaborate on that point to Skywarp, however.

Skywarp snorted in disbelief. "Whatever. Hey, you gonna fix my thrusters or just leave me to rust?"

Ratchet, walking by Skywarp on the way to a rack of parts, whacked him across the top of the head with lazy skill. "There is no rust allowed in my med bay."

"Fragging medic."

"Thanks for the invitation, but my lover might object."

"Primus, that must be a brave mech."

"That he is," Ratchet agreed, with a grin he didn't bother to hide.

* * *

There were secrets in the base at Vandenberg. Closely held, fiercely guarded. One of them, newly arrived, stood atop Prowl's desk, and looked Prowl directly in the optics with neither fear nor submission evident in his level gaze. There was simply concern written across his face. "I knew him when we were both younglings, Prowl. He was outcast for defying his sire."

Prowl regarded the aged symbiont for a long time. Prowl, once an enforcer, had known many carriers and symbionts long before he'd met either Blaster or Soundwave. This elder might be a cassette by creation, but he had the air of a leader. He wondered if he had altered his code, or if his confidence and fearlessness was a spark deep trait. Certainly, his assertive body language was not normal for his frame type.

His armor was unmarked by any faction symbol, but a clan glyph was etched on his helm. His sturdy frame bore the scars of a tough life. Old scars and dents marred the lines of his armor, and his paint was badly scuffed and faded. UV light damage had blistered and flaked it away on his shoulders, upper arms, and the bridge of his nasal ridge The war had been hard even on those who had actively tried to avoid it, and he had spent the last few centuries living a hard-scrabble existence on a nearly airless planet. Their resources had been minimal, and their lives very difficult.

However, under the surface damage, the mechling was clearly from a tough line. He was taller than Frenzy by a head, and had far thicker armor. He had been created a warrior, and had grown up with ample resources to develop his frame to the fullest. Most of his followers were smaller, shorter, lighter in frame - and younger. Prowl suspected they had all been stunted by deprivation. Only the very eldest, born before the war, has the height and weight of this symbiont.

He mentally sighed, and asked, "Killaglitch, can you and Glit work with Soundwave now? I understand that he was cast out of your society, but that was a very long time ago. He is important to our cause."

"He had not even reached his majority when he had outcast." He folded his arms across his chest, and stared at nothing for a moment, clearly thinking. He then shot Prowl a covert look, and Prowl suspected he was being sized up in turn. "I cannot hold the past against him. His father's punishment was excessive. And, he was family. I don't know how much you know about what happened ..."

"Just what you've told us in the past." Killa and a few other surviving badlands symbionts were their chief source of intel on the Decepticon communication officer's early life. Based on the substance of those reports, Jazz had, more than once and not entirely jokingly, speculated that they could change the course of the entire war by going back in time and assassinating Soundwave's sire. If Soundwave had never been cast out of his clan for remarkably stupid reasons by an exceedingly abusive sire, Soundwave most likely would have been nothing more than an (exceptionally intelligent) clan warrior.

He might have left his clan to go to the Iaconian university for studies in communications. He'd earned a rare academic full ride scholarship that his sire had refused to allow him to accept. However, he almost certainly would have returned. Carrier mecha were tied to their clans in ways that most people simply couldn't understand.

The humans had a proverb that started, "For want of a nail, the shoe was lost ..." that Prowl found appropriate when they looked at Soundwave's history.

The mechling continued the story that Prowl knew, but Prowl didn't stop him. Perhaps he would hear something that hadn't been mentioned before. "So you know he bonded to a cybercat against the wishes of our elders. The clan didn't think he was strong enough to handle Ravage, so they outcast him when he directly disobeyed his father's edict on the matter. His sire was the clan's leader. It didn't help that Ravage mauled Soundwave's sire - Fallsky - with fairly minimal provocation. However, they were wrong about Soundwave's ability to handle Ravage. Soundwave probably saved Fallsky's life when he successfully called Ravage off."

"Mmm." Prowl made an encouraging noise. He'd never had a chance to speak to Killaglitch directly before. Killa had known nothing current, as he had only known Soundwave as a youngling. Therefore, he'd been interviewed by field operatives and not special ops or tactical officers.

Picturing Soundwave as a child was enough to make Prowl's cortex threaten a glitch, he hoped talking to Killaglitch now would give him some useful data about Soundwave's core personality. While Soundwave had offered to be a liaison, there were other areas in which he might also be useful. The Autobot commanders had some decisions to make in the next few days regarding the carrier, and Prowl was in full information-gathering mode at the moment.

"The whole thing was a hot mess." Killaglitch huffed another sigh, but didn't volunteer anything else, to Prowl's disappointment.

Prowl rubbed at his forehead with two fingers. He was better at battle analysis than personnel decisions. He would need to discuss his findings with Jazz and Prime later, but for now, to make sure he had the facts right, he summed up, "In the end, despite his clan's misgivings, it seems as if Soundwave's bond with Ravage was a good one, by the standards of your culture. They were together a very long time, and all our intelligence indicates that theirs was a very good working relation. He should have fallen apart when he was outcast, but he survived and thrived. And from what you've told us, that doesn't surprise you."

Killaglitch shrugged. "True enough. And if Fallsky and the rest of the clan had treated Ravage with respect, I think Ravage would have been content to wait until Soundwave reached his majority to bond with him. However, Fallsky didn't have his son's best interests in mind. The truth was, he wanted Ravage for himself - even though Ravage wasn't interested in him, and Soundwave and Ravage were a good team from the day they met. Still, a naive youngling and an old and battle-hardened cybercat would not seem a wise match, if you didn't know the personalities involved. It would be as if a youngling were given command of a division of your best warriors. Sounds like a bad idea, unless the youngling was someone like Prime and the warriors accepted his leadership while still guiding him in his decisions."

Prowl nodded understanding. He would need to discuss this with Jazz, but it sounded as if Soundwave's early life - raised by an unsuitable sire who was also his clan's leader - might be an element of his personality. Was Soundwave accepting of an abusive and tyrannical commander because his own sire had those characteristics? If so, could the mech ever feel comfortable with a leader such as Optimus, who led by persuasion and charisma?

On the other hand, it did say something about Soundwave's acceptance of Ratchet. While Ratchet wasn't in any way abusive, Prowl knew the CMO quite well and had no illusions about Ratchet's temper or the sheer force of his personality. He'd also noted long ago that most of the mecha that Ratchet gravitated to as friends and colleagues were far easier going than he was: Prime, First Aid, Wheeljack, Jazz, and himself. He wasn't surprised that Ratchet had fallen hard for Soundwave's quiet dignity.

Killaglitch added, after a moment's quiet, "Only in this case, the youngling in question was wiser and kinder than his elders, and the ancient warrior - Ravage - had been through the Pit and back, and really needed someone who would just accept him for who he was. I used to correspond with Laserbeak before the war, though don't tell Soundwave about that - 'Beak was doing that behind his back. She filled me in on some of the details. She always hoped he'd return to his clan someday. She told me he missed them, even if - as you said - he thrived in the city. He might have come back, after Fallsky died, but then the war began, and everything went to slag. Beaky and I were actually plotting ways to convince him to return when Praxus fell. That's when he joined the 'cons. He could see the writing on the wall and he thought the Decepticons offered the best chance of surviving the war to the end."

"There are a few symbionts from his clan besides yourself among the survivors, correct?"

Killaglitch nodded. "We've discussed him at length. He may have been outcast once ... but he is still family. We look forward to reuniting with him."

"You were his progenitor's symbiont's child, correct?"

"That's right. We were very close as younglings."

"Well, I hope your reunion goes well."

His optics brightened and he nodded. Clearly, Prowl's early fears that mixing Soundwave with the last survivors of his clan were wrong. By Killaglitch's expression, he wanted a reunion.

"I'm working with Grapple on Soundwave's office. If you don't mind, I'd like to surprise Soundwave when it's done."

"It should be done by tomorrow, correct?"

"That's right." Killaglitch nodded.

"May I ask you a blunt question?" Prowl steepled his fingers on the top of the desk for a moment. When the mechling nodded warily, he said, "One of my major concerns is Soundwave's emotional stability. Optimus wants to put him to work for us, but it occurs to me that if anything happens to Frenzy, he would have nothing to live for. So. This may be inappropriate to ask, but it would help the war effort. Would you consider courting Soundwave now? I am aware that he is … damaged … and Ratchet can give you the medical details with Soundwave's approval. However, he also seems to be an excellent provider and a devoted guardian of his cassettes."

Killaglitch held a hand up, stopping his explanation. "Soundwave's damage would not eliminate him from my consideration. I'm old, Prowl. I've been bonded before - twice. I would also like to keep the option open for him to bond with some of our younglings, as they have few options to find carriers."

"One of our concerns," Prowl said slowly, "is that because he was so young when he bonded to Ravage, and because Ravage and Frenzy were barely of legal age, he may be more inclined to court very young symbionts."

Killaglitch frowned. "There's a difference between coercing a sparkling and courting a youngling who's mentally an adult and close to legal age. However, we could introduce him to a sparkling in a controlled setting. It would give you useful data on his current psychological status. I think I know the youngling for the task."

"You refer to your daughter." Killaglitch's child could take care of herself. She was tiny, but she had formidably good aim and a very keen mind. Bluestreak was going to have competition on the gunnery range.

"Yes." The old mech's gaze softened. "I have been briefed on Soundwave's damage by Blaster. Based on his remaining skills, he has great potential to succeed and prosper despite his disabilities. From Steeljaw, I have had confirmation that he remains the kind and caring mech I knew as a youngling. He would be a very, very good match for my child. She has a brilliant mind and an atypical personality that is offputting to many who do not know her well. However, she is too young now and if he attempts to court her, you will have your answer about his proclivities. Sandflower, meanwhile, would quickly put him in his place if he stepped out of bounds."

"She's twenty vorns and has a vorn to go before she is legal to bond, if my data is correct on your laws."

"Your data is always correct." The mechling chuffed a soft laugh. "She is too young. Even when legally of age, I would like to see her wait a few more vorns, as she had a rough start on life and her development was slow. However, she will grow up quickly enough. There are also others, slightly older, who might also chose him, and who would make good siblings for my daughter. She is ... unusual ... but she has a kind spark and a brilliant mind. She never got along well with her peers her own age, but she is much loved by those a few vorn older than her."

Prowl smiled faintly. He suspected that Killaglitch's words could be translated to, 'the kid's an awkward genius.' He'd been an awkward genius himself, once. "I have inferred that Soundwave currently sees himself as undesirable, to the point that he fears Frenzy might leave him. Steeljaw tells me that is highly unlikely. If you decide you are not interested in him yourself, will you speak to him, and ensure he understands that symbionts will be courting him?"

"Of course." Killaglitch nodded, gravely. He sighed through his vents, and added softly, "I want to get to know him before I decide if I'm interested. We've both been through a lot. That changes mecha. However, regardless of my decision, he will need all our support to recover his confidence. Carriers always think they have to be perfect in body and mind to attract symbionts. The truth is, most symbionts don't want the biggest and the best carrier - they want a carrier who will be their partner for life, treat them well, and ensure their safety and happiness. Soundwave has the type of personality that we find most appealing, from everything I've heard from other symbionts, including Laserbeak. He's devoted to his symbionts. They are the center of his world."

"Mmm. Would you like me to arrange an … encounter … with him and your daughter today? You're right that his reaction to a neutral youngling, with no outside influence, will give us some of the data we need."

"Of course. I'd also like for them to get to know one another. The best bonds are between friends. And she has been asking about him - and about Frenzy - since they arrived." Amusement twinkled in his optics.

A faint smile turned Prowl's lips upward. He would make a point of recording the video footage when they revealed to Soundwave just who some of the new symbionts were; he knew at least a few mecha who would take pleasure in seeing Soundwave's reaction to finding members of his clan alive. So few mechs had any surviving family. "Of course."

* * *

Soundwave found the closest rec room without difficulty, working from maps committed to his memory long ago. It was mid-shift for most of the 'bots, so the room was deserted.

The humans had provided the Autobots shelter in the form of ubiquitous metal aircraft hangers. The Autobots had promptly dug hardened bunkers and connecting tunnels beneath them. Metal hangers provided little protection from anything other than the sun's rays. Non-essential facilities, including this rec room, were above ground in the hangars. Their real base at Vandenberg was deeply buried and the tunnels and bunkers were heavily reinforced. Nothing short of a tactical nuke could have touched it.

This rec room occupied a full hanger, and the metal panels had been replaced on the west side with windows. The expansive glass windows gave a beautiful view of the coast. It was late afternoon, and the sunset would probably be stunning, later. He paused for a moment, automatically scanning the sky for trouble, then continued across the room.

An energon dispenser was situated against the opposite wall. He picked up a cube and realized he was faced with a choice of flavors, something that not even the Ark offered. Energon had simply been energon for as long as he could remember. One consumed it for survival.

He could pick, according to the labels, between copper, sodium, steel, or magnesium flavored - all trace elements that Cybertronians needed, and all tasty. There was also a sweet carbon additive, which was notorious for plugging filters, but was beloved by many mechs in the same way that humans loved candy. Someone (probably Steeljaw, as he recognized the handwriting) had put sticky notes with the flavors written in English on the dispenser.

He hoped Blaster realized what a treasure he had in Steeljaw. The only reason for English text flavor labels on the energon dispenser was for Soundwave's benefit.

He poured himself a cube of magnesium flavored fuel, added a little carbon, and then turned to discover he was being watched.

... By a mech he'd never seen before.

... Who appeared to be a sparkling.

He blinked, and stared. His surprise at seeing a sparkling was replaced with disbelief when her real frame type fully registered.

He'd estimated her age based on her very small size. However, the child was older than 'sparkling' as she was a symbiont. She appeared to be in late adolescence. She was at that stage where she was all long legs and arms, and oversized hands and feet. However, she had lustrous, healthy-looking armor and her systems were humming with good maintenance. His spark seemed to freeze in his chest as he stared. He half expected her to prove to be an illusion, a hologram, or a hallucination.

He hadn't seen a strange symbiont in decavorns. He hadn't seen a symbiont youngling in far longer than that.

She clicked something curious.

He couldn't respond in kind. His spark spasmed in pain at the thought. "Apologies. Unable to speak Cybertronian. English understood?"

"Yeah." Her voice was soft. "Blaster gave me the files today. I understand that you are Soundwave. Prowl and Blaster and my progenitor said I should say hello."

He crouched down. "Please, your designation?"

She crept closer, nervous but also instinctively drawn to him. "Sandflower."

"Name, beautiful. You are young."

That got him an uncertain click, then a softer, "... Yeah. They named me after attractive vegetation on the world we sought refuge on during the war."

"Where come?"

"I don't understand."

"Where ... source of journey?" He balled his fists. He had to sound like a complete moron to her. "Apologies, difficulties with language."

Her optics scanned over his frame. "Prowl advised I should not judge you by the way you talk. He said that you had very high intelligence, but your language centers were damaged in combat. I understand; my sire's mate is a medic and has been training me."

He crouched to be on eye level with her, hardcoded instincts firing online. She was young, vulnerable, and he was instinctively protective. She was also educated and would be a very desirable symbiont once she reached her majority. "Sandflower … other symbionts here?"

"Yes. There are twenty of us here, and more scheduled to arrive soon. Cosmos is ferrying them to Earth."

His fiercely protective urges settled a little. So, the Autobots had a secret and they'd decided to include him in it. He was charmed that Prowl had decided to send the youngling out to meet him first. Still, he was worried about her safety. She was so very small, and could be harmed by anyone - even a human. The top of her head would have only come up to the shoulder of the average human. While shiny and free of dents, her armor was so thin it was effectively only decorative. He asked, "They permit you wander, unsupervised?"

That got him a giggle. "I'm not that young, sir. I also think Prowl's probably watching us right now."

"Age?"

He suspected Prowl had engineered this meeting to study his reaction to the symbiont. His character was being measured by his interaction with her. It was a logical reason for Prowl to handle the introduction this way, and he found he didn't mind. He had nothing to hide, yet the Autobots were wise to worry about his behavior. There were many carriers who would react ... improperly ... to an unattached, and very desirable, young symbiont. If he were a different mech, he could promise her the stars themselves in exchange for her spark, and flatter her with indecent intent, and she was young enough to believe him.

"Almost twenty." She bit her lip plate. "Vorns."

He was surprised by her age. She was almost an adult, by law, despite her very slight stature. He thought she massed about half what Frenzy did and twenty vorns meant she was nearly done with her structural growth. Certainly she was old enough that she could be expected to behave herself in mixed company, and not get into trouble if left alone. He was accustomed to thinking of Frenzy and Rumble as younglings, even though they had been born millennia ago. To see a true adolescent of his species was a shock. He made a mental note to treat her appropriate for her age, and not as if she was a young sparkling!

"Fuel needed?" He indicated the dispenser. She was too short to reach it herself.

"Please. With carbon?"

"Do your guardians allow you carbon?"

She scowled, clearly unhappy with the question, but it was a playful frown. "Busted! My sire only allows me to have two grams per earth week. I think he's being overly paranoid."

Soundwave tended to agree with her; that was an inconsequential amount of carbon. It was barely enough to flavor one cube of energon - Frenzy got more than two grams from Ratchet per day in the form of his special sweetened, warmed, energon and Ratchet was highly unlikely to give Frenzy anything that would cause him permanent harm.

"Respect for guardians' rules, important."

She stuck her lower lip out in a pout. "We starved when I was little, and now they're obsessive about what I eat. I'll always be a runt, but they think if I just eat enough I might grow taller." She huffed an aggrieved sigh. "I'll just have a cube with some selenium and Cybertronium, then."

He reached for the dispenser. "Selenium, excellent flavor combination solar made energon."

"Yeah, I guess." She accepted the small cube he handed down to her. "So Prowl says you got a symbiont and he's not very old, right?"

"Frenzy. Yes. He is adult, but was created shortly before the war began."

"That's not a youngling!" She snorted.

"Frenzy, often acts younger than his years." Soundwave said this with great fondness, though the limits of his visor-based communication couldn't fully convey his feelings.

"Oh. Can I meet him?"

"Certainly. He will be pleased to meet you. Blaster, other carrier, also has young symbionts. Eject, closer to your age."

He knew he was being generous in his assessment that Eject was closer to her age. He wasn't certain of Eject's date of creation, but Blaster's little biped had been mentioned in intelligence reports dating back centuries. Emotionally, however, Eject seemed far closer to 'youngling' than Frenzy did.

"Yeah, that's what Blaster said. I can't wait to meet them!" She grinned in the most delightful way. She was truly charming.

"How long, here?"

"Our ship arrived a week ago." She scrambled up onto a mech-sized chair and he pulled another chair up so he could sit facing her. He leaned over a bit so he wasn't looming so far above her head. Primus, she was tiny. He could have held her easily in the palm of his hand!

She continued, "We don't have any carriers with us. I have not seen a carrier since I was really little. But my creators have told me lots about them. My sire's been bonded twice. Both his carriers died before I was created."

"Carriers and symbionts, both rare." He wished he could express himself more fluently. "Carriers, symbionts, need to be together. Bonded, not-bonded, both. Same culture. Understanding of programming. Mutual assistance. All required. Distressing, no carriers with symbionts. You are too young to bond, but I will assist you, if needed. Not because I am courting. Because you are my kind. We must help each other."

She smiled shyly. "I can't wait to have a carrier of my own. My progenitor says it's the most wonderful feeling in the world to be bonded to a carrier. But there are so few carriers, I don't know if I'll ever have a chance. I think the elders should be bonded first - they have more to contribute to a carrier."

"Carrier-symbiont relationship, very important," he agreed. "Trust, protection, affection, many more things very good. Before war, a good team helped with economic status of each other, entire clan, both. Do not discount odds finding carrier yourself. Many carriers like younger symbionts, easier to bond with."

As much as he had loved Ravage with all his spark, he'd learned that truth the hard way. It was rare for a carrier to successfully bond with a symbiont much older than themselves. He and Ravage had made their bond work, but it had not been easy in the beginning. Ravage had been opinionated, stubborn, and not always willing to cede authority to his young master.

"You!" An aggressive voice barked, causing both of them to jump. "You, leave her alone!"

He turned in time to see Arcee stalking in his direction. Her plating was flared with outrage, and an ugly snarl marred her features. "She's too young for what you want, you bastard!"

"Arcee!" Sandflower protested, "We were just talking!"

"Accusation, assumption, regarding Soundwave plans, untrue." He rose, alarmed. He had no desire to fight with her. "Sandflower, too young to court."

Sandflower added, with a laugh and a toss of her head, "He's not a bastard, either, 'Cee. According to my folks, his pedigree's damn good. His sire was a clan leader. But don't worry. I ain't interested in being courted yet. I'm just checking my options out for someday."

She winked saucily at Soundwave, then sauntered out, unhurried and unafraid. He watched her go, unable to keep the appreciation from his expression - and very glad he was wearing a mask and visor. Arcee would doubtless mistake a carrier's simple and natural appreciation of such a brilliant young symbiont for a desire to possess and enslave the little one.

Arcee glowered. He held up both hands in an 'unarmed and harmless' gesture. "Soundwave, lacking threat. Child young. Soundwave, protect. Protect equals wait better-older-age bonding. Child needs meet others, not chose quickly. Chose best, not first. Bond forever."

The older femme relaxed a little. "You keep repeating that, you hear? I'll personally make you eat your own interface equipment if you touch her."

His optics widened as soon as he'd deciphered the meaning - and innuendo - of her words. "Soundwave, not want symbiont that way. No attraction. None."

He couldn't put quite the growled outrage into his synthesized voice that he wanted to. While there was no taboo against symbiont-carrier relationships, and he'd known more than one mixed-race mecha in his life, he'd never personally been interested in symbionts that way. And he'd never been drawn to children!

He took a step towards Arcee, who stood her ground. She crossed her arms over her chest and snapped, "Forgive me for being skeptical of the intentions of any 'Con. You haven't exactly inspired confidence in your motives."

Anger thrummed in his circuits. It was enough to wake Frenzy, whose sudden consciousness felt alarmed. There was a buzz of static in his head representing Frenzy's startled words, and a scant few seconds later, Prowl appeared in the rec room's entrance. He wasn't sure if Red Alert had warned Prowl, if Frenzy had, or if Prowl had been watching all along.

"Arcee, desist." He stabbed a finger at the exit. "You're confined to quarters. We will have a discussion, later."

With a hot glare, she stalked off.

Prowl blew out a sharp sigh through his vents. "My apologies, Soundwave. Arcee has reason to be suspicious of Decepticon motives, but your history implies no threat from you towards younglings. To be perfectly honest, we set this meeting up with you and Sandflower."

He relaxed. Prowl, as the Autobot's head tactician, had access to every bit of intelligence on Soundwave. Prowl's assessment - and choice to introduce them - was very reassuring. "Thank you. She is very young. Pleasure to see her. Reminder, happier life."

Prowl nodded. Soundwave knew he'd passed a test, in that moment.

"Mmm. You're going to be up to your knees in symbionts, soon enough. We've been keeping the knowledge classified, but now that we've moved them and the entire colony is transferring to Earth, we don't need to be so careful. The short explanation is that there was an Autobot-allied civilian colony that had a small but viable population of symbionts - all mechling frames, like Frenzy, except for one cybercat medic. The medic happens to be Sandflower's progenitor. They will be safer here and, from a cultural standpoint, should mix well with humans."

"How many?"

"Symbionts? A few hundred, total. Cosmos is bringing them down from Mars Base twenty at a time. There are no carriers with them."

His emotions spun at that reminder. Somebody needed to protect them. Were they safe? How were they fending for themselves? Symbionts were capable of independent function - he was well aware Blaster's Rewind had lived as a single mech for the bulk of his operational life - but they were hardcoded to seek a relationship with a carrier. In lieu of that, they would attach themselves emotionally to strong 'normal' mechs and could be very vulnerable to abuse and enslavement. There was a difference between a carrier bond and slavery.

He suddenly felt helpless and very alone. He could personally protect a handful of symbionts, but how did one manage hundreds? He certainly couldn't bond to all of them, even if they wanted him. The thought was ridiculous.

Blaster's assistance, required. The thought raced through his mind, followed by, Blaster will outrank Soundwave and will certainly demand to be involved.

Getting along with Steeljaw's master had suddenly taken on a whole new importance. If he wanted to be involved with the new symbionts - and he desperately, eagerly wanted to be - he would have to be very careful. If he angered Blaster, it could affect his chances to help with the symbiont colony.

"Prime's making sure they're treated right," Prowl said, softly. "We only know of eight carriers living, Soundwave, including you and Blaster. The symbionts have been asking us to contact them. They've expressed a strong desire to rebuild their culture. Soundwave, many of the survivors that we've found were from the badlands, and avoided the worst of the war by literally going underground until the fighting was over. They are your people."

More carriers would make things much easier. He was very pleased to hear that the Autobots were thinking of reuniting the last surviving carriers with the band of refugee symbionts.

"Know fourteen certainly; four maybe living - live, dead, status unclear." He gestured at one of the nearby tables. "Symbionts, here to earth? Suggest invite carriers, also. Soundwave, talk with Prowl? Identities, contact information, some known"

Prowl drew himself a cube of plain energon, then joined Soundwave at the table. "You understand we can't tell you what we know about the locations of other carriers. Not yet."

"Understood." He pulled a datapad from his subspace and started listing what he knew. Prowl could match up his data to the Autobot information. In this matter, he trusted the Autobot command. Their intentions were good, and Prowl would treat this data with the care it deserved. "Two other Decepticon carriers known. Low ranking enlisted mecha. One bonded four symbionts: one cybercat, three fliers. Additional note: Soundwave aware of only six pure-CNA cybercats remaining, and only three fliers. All designations, here."

He printed their names in neat, blocky English script, adding commanding officers and last known locations. He would be relieved to get them all off the front lines on distant worlds and bring them to the safety of Earth. His kind were so close to dying out that any loss of a carrier was tragic.

He wondered if they could be persuaded to defect, or if a better arrangement could be made. Amnesty at the end of the war, perhaps.

There were hundreds of symbionts alive ... for a moment, the thought of that true wealth of cassettes was overwhelming.

... And then despair slammed into his spark. Would the best want him? Would any want him?

Prowl, oblivious to the uncharacteristic anxiety that was making Soundwave's fuel pump spin faster, hmmed. "We'll make contacting Decepticon carriers part of the negotiations with Starscream, then."

"Why symbionts to Earth? Soundwave express curiosity." Not that he was complaining. If they set the colony up somewhere else, he would be very torn between staying at Ratchet's side and going to the symbionts.

Prowl gave him a sideways look, then sighed. "Large frames are expensive, Soundwave, both to build and to fuel and maintain. Our near future plans to rebuild our race will focus on establishing a viable civilian population of minibots and symbionts. There is a place for larger frames, but that is not here, on Earth, at present. We can build a population of larger mecha, when we have the infrastructure and fuel supplies."

"Symbionts, need carriers. Carrier numbers, insufficient. Carriers, very large and heavily armored."

The thought occurred to him that he, himself, would need to reproduce ... symbionts needed carriers. The idea was daunting. Would he even be able to find a mate willing to bond and procreate with him, as damaged as he was? Certainly, Ratchet had better options, if he decided he wanted to sire sparklings ... and they'd never even discussed offspring. He wasn't even sure how to bring it up. Anyway, how would Soundwave raise children, given he couldn't even speak Cybertronian? Would they expect him to foster his offspring with others? He couldn't imagine letting anyone else raise his sparklings.

He set that miserable line of thought aside for later analysis.

"Mmm. I'm aware of that. Carrier racks are a dominant CNA trait, fortunately. And for all your size and mass, you don't use much energon - you don't have a vehicle mode, so your powerplant isn't much bigger than the average minibot." Prowl steepled his fingers together for a moment, then sipped his energon. "You were going to tell me about the others?"

The rest of the carriers he knew of were neutrals. Information on them was trickier, though he provided what he had, quickly writing notes out in blocky English print. When done, he added, "... Frenzy can give visual files, Cybertronian designations."

His mind was spinning. He would need to reproduce. He had never had a child. The thought of a child of his own was overwhelming. He had never even considered it for the duration of the war, and now all logic implied he would need to begin bearing sparklings very soon. While he was confident he would make a good progenitor, would Ratchet be interested?

Prowl rustled his armor, drawing Soundwave's attention back to him. "This neutral trader, the one you said has a trade route to Nebulos? Did he have a previous route in the Orion sector?"

"Negative. Previously, Cybertronian native."

"And this mech, who you said still resides on Cybertron - has he ever lived anywhere but Kaon?"

"Negative."

Prowl steepled his fingers, scrutinized the data for a moment longer, then said quietly, "There is some obvious overlap in our knowledge. However, I would estimate that there are at least twenty-six living carriers, with a margin of error of three, indicated by our combined data."

He inclined his head. "Thank you."

Thank you, he meant, for sharing even that small morsel of data. Over twenty carriers was not nearly enough, but it was far better than none. Perhaps some others would surface once the war was over, but he wasn't optimistic that they would find large numbers of his kind. Carriers had not fared well in the war. They were large targets who lacked mobile alt modes.

It took about twenty-one vorns for a carrier to reach reproductive maturity, same as a symbiont. A healthy adult carrier could produce a sparkling every two years. He did the math in his head, and, assuming maximum breeding potential was realized, found he was vaguely relieved. Given an earth century or so, they would have enough carriers to have clans again.

They could vastly increase the number of carriers if some carriers sired offspring on grounder framed mecha, but that would be a discussion for another day. He had a suspicion Prime would disapprove of the idea of a planned breeding program, and Soundwave had his own misgivings. A bonded pair could produce at least two sparklings every two years - one from each mech in the bond - if the conditions were right. That should be enough.

Symbionts took as long as a carrier to reach adulthood, but they reproduced much faster. Twin or triplet births were common, and a healthy symbiont could produce offspring approximately twice a year. In the old days, that rapid rate of reproduction had been a practical adaptation to harsh environment. Symbionts had lived hard lives, and had often died young. Plus every carrier needed several, so it made sense that they bred faster than their hosts. They might need to encourage the symbionts to control their birth rate a bit, but within several tens of vorns, the number of carriers and symbionts could be brought into a more normal ratio.

His kind had a future.

"I believe Prime wishes to speak to you now. Starscream is with him." Prowl's words brought him back to the present.

"Understood." He rose. They still had a large surplus of unbonded symbionts for the near future. He would need to bring this up to Ratchet and Prime. Symbionts needed carriers, in ways that other mechs just couldn't fully understand. If they didn't have carriers, they would emotionally attach themselves to non-clan mecha. This was something that would need to be planned for, and worked around or potentially with. Gestalt bonding code was very similar to carrier code, and could be installed, along with docking port mods. He could foresee carefully selected mecha being encouraged to form teams with symbionts.

"And Soundwave, we will talk about ... what happens after the war ... again later. I will be very involved in post-war planning." Prowl, also rising, smiled a very small smile at him. Soundwave, once a telepath, had long ago learned to match Praxian wing-language to Praxian moods. Prowl's doorwings were relaxed.

"Soundwave, pleased to discuss. To help."

Prowl nodded. "You are part of my plans for the future. You are valued by us."

He smiled behind his mask. That brief statement meant more to Soundwave than Prowl could ever appreciate. He fumbled for words that would be dignified. "Gratitude, expressed."

"Soundwave, Prime trusts you. I have never known him to be wrong about the nature of a mech."

Soundwave felt he'd also passed a test today. Prowl was calm around him for the first time since his arrival. He wasn't entirely sure what had changed the tactician's mind, but he was pleased. He would do anything to be involved with the symbionts. Even as damaged as he was, surely he could be of use to them!

* * *

It was on that high note that he headed for Optimus's office. Halfway there, Frenzy joined him, trotting at his heels. "Boss, boss, there's other symbionts here, boss!"

"Soundwave, aware."

"Yeah, yeah, but there's this kid. We get to show her the ropes! Jazz asked us to include her in stuff!"

"Sandflower, child. Frenzy, ordered: protect." He had some concern about the young femme's safety. Frenzy could, and would, keep his hardware packed away around the kid. Steeljaw would also behave himself, as would the rest of Blaster's family. However, there was a whole base full of other young mechs, some more scrupulous than others. Size was only a limiting factor to those who lacked imagination.

"Of course I will protect her!" Frenzy banged Soundwave's thigh with a fist as Soundwave paused to orient himself. They were in a windowless tunnel somewhere beneath the base's buildings, and it wasn't on any of the maps he'd covertly acquired. "Ya don't have t' order me t' do that. Primus, I'm glad she's with the Autobots. Can you imagine keeping her safe with the 'cons?"

"Theorized situation, inadvisable," he agreed.

"Ya think? - Anyway, Optimus's office is this way. It's totally cool. You should see his television! It's huge! And it's got a touch-screen!"

"Optimus, have large screen many needs. Conferences, maps, calculations."

"Yeah, yeah, I know he needs it, but it's still totally cool. His desk is gi-nor-mous! And he's got this sound system - now that ain't just business, ya can't tell me it is. Jazz designed it, and it totally rocks, and I mean that literally. It's like being right there at a concert. Big boss bot loves music, you know that."

"Affirmative." Before the war, Optimus had been a highly respected patron of the arts. He'd had his own box at the Vosian theater, and had regularly attended concerts worldwide, generally with Jazz, Elita and Ratchet. "Starscream, present?"

"Oh, yeah." Frenzy giggled. "Speaking of music, Optimus is playing him like a harp."

"Starscream, not easy fool." It took him a moment to decipher Frenzy's pun, but Frenzy was patient and waited for his answer.

"Yabut, the thing with Prime is, he means what he says." Frenzy smirked up at Soundwave. "He just uses prettier words than most mechs, and Starscream's eating it up."

"Chemistry, predicted."

He'd known that Optimus, given a chance, could charm the wings off Starscream. Optimus's natural charisma had been honed by a lifetime of politics. Optimus also knew Starscream from before the war. He vaguely remembered some sort of gossip involving intoxicated flying by Optimus and the seekers, long before Optimus had become a Prime.

However, Starscream was nobody's fool and, while he loved flattery more than most mechs, he would ultimately make decisions based on facts and hard data. That dichotomy was something that Megatron had never understood about Starscream - and this had led to some of the most fiery fights between them. When Starscream had inevitably metamorphosed from a flirtatious playboy to a shrewd, and shrewish, genius, Megatron had always, always, taken offense.

Despite frequent attempts by Soundwave to counsel Megatron that that Starscream was simply playing games when he flirted, Megatron had taken Starscream's mercuric changes in mood personally. Soundwave had found their relationship to be immensely frustrating. Things would have been so much simpler if both of them had stopped their games and simply worked together.

Soundwave found his own stress level was vastly lower among the Autobots simply because the commanding officers got along so well. Their bickering was good natured, and they clearly liked and trusted one another. He did not need to watch for literal crossfire between the command staff.

As expected, he found when he stepped through the door into Optimus's office that Starscream looked like he was having a very good time. Starscream's optics were bright, a smile played about his lip plates, and his body language was almost sultry.

Soundwave didn't miss the subtle cues, however, that told of Starscream's true mood. It was a good mood, and Soundwave was not surprised. Starscream's wings were relaxed, his clawed hands were not clenched into fists, and his thrusters were stone cold. He was comfortable around Optimus, and felt unthreatened. Optimus had that effect on people.

It had been millenia since he'd seen Starscream in Megatron's presence with his thrusters off. He suspected Starscream kept them primed to fire even when Megatron was interfacing with him. There was no trust between the two Decepticons, and hadn't been for most of the war. It bemused him that Starscream trusted the leader of the Autobots more than he ever had Megatron.

It seemed that Optimus felt comfortable with Starscream, as well. Optimus's face plate was retracted, baring a smile. His optics, ever expressive, were lit with warmth and pleasure.

When that smile turned his way, Soundwave straightened up. Pleasure flooded his spark. There was just something indescribably warm about being smiled at in approval by the Prime himself. Frenzy's spark warmed as well; he knew without looking that Frenzy had returned Optimus's smile with a real grin.

"Soundwave, Frenzy, thank you for joining us." Optimus rose as he entered, and Starscream did the same a beat later.

"Soundwave: express willingness assistance Starscream, Optimus, both factions with administrative minutia. Goal: Facilitate better relations." He winced at the tangle of words, knowing he was mangling the language. He wished Frenzy and Steeljaw were both safely nestled in their docks, so that they could help him sound competent.

"Ya, man, no thanks needed. I'm sick of fighting Autodorks. Glad ta help ya end all the shit." Frenzy scrambled up onto Optimus's desk.

Soundwave hissed a blat of shocked, and annoyed, static at Frenzy in rebuke. Frenzy's language was unacceptable in the context of this meeting! Optimus, however, grinned, and Starscream's wings betrayed his bright amusement at Frenzy's trademark teasing insults.

Starscream chuckled, "Soundwave, your brats always were so very good at diplomacy. - How are you feeling?"

He blinked at the polite question. Starscream had never shown an interest in his welfare before. Starscream had actively conspired against him on many occasions. In fact, just weeks ago, Starscream had misled Megatron into believing him to be damaged worse than he was, causing Megatron to attempt to ... euthanize ... him. Very warily he said, "Soundwave: functional."

He probably should have held a grudge against Starscream for that betrayal, except that he suspected Starscream hadn't intended for Megatron to go so far. Starscream wasn't a cold-sparked murderer. On the other hand, Soundwave had trusted Megatron and Megatron had broken many promises that day, both formal and unspoken.

Optimus's voice held a wry chuckle. "Your position as liaison is official, and accepted by both of us. We both agree that your personal preference to end the war, and your obvious willingness to extend forgiveness to former enemies, make you an excellent choice."

"Soundwave doesn't bear grudges." Frenzy snorted "I'm not sure that there's much he'd ever take personally."

Soundwave mused silently that Frenzy, on the other hand, never forgot a slight.

Starscream grinned, bearing sharpened dental plates. "Oh, I'm reasonably sure if I harmed you, runt, he'd take it all sorts of personal."

"... true." Frenzy met Starscream's bright red gaze with fearlessness that wasn't matched by the turmoil that Soundwave could sense coming from Frenzy's spark. Boldly, Frenzy asserted, "But that's assumin' ya could actually hurt me, seeker-freaker."

"Frenzy, desist." He put a hand on Frenzy's shoulders. His symbiont was unarmed, other than a laser scalpel welded to an iron rod that he was hiding in his subspace. He approved wholeheartedly of that nasty little tool, but it was no match for the Decepticon Air Commander. "Your words, rude."

Starscream, fortunately, was merely amused. With dark humor lurking in his keen optics, Starscream suggested, "Frenzy, you could learn something from your master. If you brag about being a tough guy, you lose the element of surprise."

Frenzy opened his mouth, likely intending to snap something insulting. Soundwave clapped a hand down on his shoulder and gripped his shoulder with force that was just shy of painful. "Data Starscream needs: Frenzy, is needed to assist speak Soundwave. Soundwave, difficulty assemble vocabulary coherent. Frenzy, no embellishment Soundwave words."

"And just how do you know that he's not changing what you say?" Starscream purred. "You can't actually know what he said if it's in Cybertronian."

The thought that Frenzy would alter the meaning of his words hadn't even occurred to Soundwave. He turned the grip on Frenzy's shoulder to a stroke of his back plating. "Frenzy, trusted."

"Yeah, I'm trusted." Frenzy grinned at Starscream. "It's a great feeling. But you wouldn't know that, would you?"

He must have missed a nuance of meaning. The words didn't seem to be that inflammatory - at least, not compared to what Frenzy could come up with. However, Starscream hissed and leaned forward, "I don't need to trust anyone, you little scraplet."

"I said being trusted, not trusting. Nobody trusts you, Starscream. You ain't earned it. You really want to work with the Autobots? Stop expecting 'em to act like Decepticons." Frenzy shrugged free of Soundwave's touch. "'Cons are all about who's got the nastiest guns. Autobots build circles of trust and friendship. Their culture's built on a foundation of mutual support and protection and affection."

Starscream opened his mouth, then shut it. Soundwave, though worried for Frenzy's safety around the Air Commander, thought Frenzy's ire had been earned. Even if Soundwave was willing to overlook Starscream's past treachery, Frenzy would never forget or forgive.

"While he lacks diplomacy, he is not wrong about the differences between our factions." Optimus surprised Soundwave by agreeing with Frenzy. "However, I would observe that Seekers have a similar relationship with each other, Commander. You must truly miss your people."

He'd never noticed the similarity between Seekers and Autobots. He wasn't good at analysis of emotional dynamics. That had always been Ravage's strong point.

Starscream, who generally never knew when to shut up, was utterly silent. Suddenly, sharply, he looked away from all of them. The Decepticon Air Commander blew out a short, sharp, deliberate ventilation, and stared at a wall for a long moment. "Well played, Prime."

"In this, I am not trying to manipulate you." Optimus rose from his chair and walked the two strides to Starscream. Starscream tensed now, for the first time, but Optimus simply crouched to be on his level. "I would see you as Cybertron's Air Commander once more, Starscream. You were chosen by Vector Sigma himself as guardian and leader for a reason. I will not question the wisdom of the Primes, my friend. You are leader of not just the Seekers, but all those sparked to fly."

Starscream smirked. "If I'm a leader of all those sparked to fly, it's a good thing you fly like a brick with a rocket pack attached."

Frenzy barked a laugh. Optimus flashed Starscream a quick smile. "Truer words have never been spoken regarding my flying skills, as you well know."

"Oh, such humility. You know, I could teach you to fly a little better - maybe like a brick with wings." Starscream suddenly bit his lip and averted his gaze. "Not that you'd want to do anything such as that with the likes of me. I know you're being charming and kind because you need me to play nice."

Optimus rose, stepped around his desk, and offered Starscream a hand up. Uncertainly, he accepted it. Optimus drew the shorter seeker to his feet, so that they were standing mere feet apart. "Regretfully, we have more important things to address first. Once the immediate crisis is resolved and you are securely in power, however, I believe I will take you up on that offer for flying lessons."

Starscream's optics widened. He drew in a vent of air, then froze, fans stilling. His crimson optics stared up at Prime with an utterly unreadable expression.

Soundwave found he was silencing his systems, and holding perfectly still. He was seeing something almost magical, he thought. Starscream, bitter and violent, vindictive and vicious, was standing a mere handful of feet from Optimus Prime. They were so close that they were in each other's fields, and could certainly feel the heat of each other's systems. Starscream's reactions, for once, were honest and not feigned. He knew the seeker well enough to know when he was playing calculated emotional games and when he had been startled into a honest reaction.

And then Starscream looked away. "Nicely played, Optimus."

Optimus cradled the side of Starscream's face in one enormous hand. Starscream froze, then allowed Optimus to guide his face back to optic contact with the Prime. "I am not playing you, Starscream. If you so choose, you will play a tremendously important role in the restoration of our people to our former glory. I truly believe in you."

"Liar." Starscream's sneer was faked. The set of his wings indicated deep insecurity.

Frenzy made a small, worried sound next to Soundwave. That word, liar, could be seen as a mortal insult. Starscream's frame was now tensed, and he clearly expecting to be struck. Megatron would have backhanded him into the wall.

Starscream was, Soundwave thought, testing Optimus. His calculating, suspicious nature was resurfacing. Starscream truly expected to be assaulted, and that if Optimus hit him, it would cement their relationship as master and subordinate. Starscream would follow Optimus for his own personal reasons, but would never trust him if Optimus struck him now.

"No, Starscream. I am not a liar." Optimus slid his hand around so that one large hand cupped the back of Starscream's neck. He tugged, gently, and then Starscream let out a soft sigh. He stumbled one stride forward, features suddenly sagging with exhaustion and optics clicking off.

The Prime pulled Starscream into hug, saying as he did, "I believe in you, Starscream. Together, we can do this."

Soundwave was motionless in disbelief. He gripped Frenzy tightly, hoping that his symbiont would have the sense to remain silent and not interrupt. He gave a warning squeeze to Frenzy's shoulder. Frenzy, for his part, simply reached up and rested a much smaller hand over Soundwave's fingers, quelling Soundwave's fears that his outspoken symbiont might say something unwise.

Contrary to popular belief, Frenzy's mouth did not run on autopilot. Soundwave relaxed a little bit.

There was something magical, and supernatural, about Prime's ability to earn the trust and love of others.

"Even my own ... my own seekers ... they stopped believing." Starscream's voice was a quiet whisper, broken with spurts of static. "I tried ... I tried to give the title back. Vector Sigma wouldn't take it. The ancient Primes ... they said I was still chosen to lead. I was Air Commander of a dead world. What irony!"

"When was this?" Optimus as quietly, with Starscream still held close to his chassis.

"A few earth years ago."

"It seems I am not the only Prime to believe in you."

"You ... you're not just saying that?" Starscream sounded younger and more vulnerable than Soundwave had ever heard. "... You do need my cooperation."

They had known each other before the war. Optimus - then Orion - was a little older than Starscream, but they had both attended the same university, at the same time, albeit with vastly different majors. How well had they been acquainted? Soundwave had no idea.

Optimus said quietly, "I do need your help, Starscream. However, I also believe you have the strength, resilience, and courage to work with me to end this war. From there, we can forge a new future. I want you to stand by my side as we do this."

Starscream looked up at him again. His optics were bright. He was well and truly captured by Prime's charisma now. "Really?"

"You have my word." Optimus released him, and stepped back.

Starscream folded his arms across his chest, then remembered his audience and snapped at Soundwave and Frenzy, "If either of you say anything about this, I'll peel your plating off your protoforms myself."

"Discretion, assured." Soundwave wondered what it would feel like to be embraced by Optimus in comfort. He felt no carnal attraction to the Prime, but even standing across the room he could feel the sheer power, dignity, and nobility of the mech's field.

"I've been keeping secrets since I was sparked. Ya think I don't know when to shut my trap?" Frenzy grinned. "Though you two look so cute together."

And there was the wise crack that Soundwave had feared from his symbiont.

Starscream said, "Merely cute? Frenzy, I am disappointed. Surely, you can come up with something better than that."

"... Nah."

"Slag." Starscream said, eyes alight with mischief. He trailed a single fingertip down Optimus's chest. "Want to inspire Frenzy into more suitable adjectives?"

Optimus caught his hand, folded both his larger hands around Starscream's fingers, and looked him in the optic. "We have much to discuss at a later date."

"That wasn't a no," Starscream noted, boldly. "Are you playing me, or tempted, Prime?"

Optimus inclined his head, looking a little confused. "I would not toy with your feelings. I have known you, both as an enemy and a friend. I would prefer to call you friend and trusted ally. I believe we need to become better acquainted before we become ... tempted."

Frenzy's jaw was hanging open. Soundwave, who saw the teasing light in Optimus's blue eyes, was almost equally flabbergasted. He'd never imagined that the Prime would be willing to flirt with Starscream, to meet him at his own level.

Starscream, for his part, looked surprised, then a bit wary.

Ravage would have said, Idiot's scared to death to let his real self out to play. Prime knows the fastest way to shut the pervert down is to tell him you want to know him better.

Soundwave was pretty sure that Ravage would have been right.

"Well. Back to business. You said you would send Soundwave to me with a proposal, as soon as the Nemesis is secure?" Starscream, true to his nature, recovered quickly.

"Correct. Soundwave," Optimus turned to him, and Soundwave was very glad for his mask, which hid his continuing expression of surprised amusement, "will you be comfortable with the idea of traveling to the Nemesis with Frenzy, Steeljaw, and a small entourage of Autobots?"

"Affirmative."

"You would trust me with your Autobots? ... I could use them as a hostages." Starscream seemed surprised. "We discussed using Soundwave ..."

"I am certain that you will treat all of the mechs involved with courtesy and due care, including Soundwave and Frenzy. They are officially under my protection. None of them are expendable. And ... you are not Megatron. You will abide by your word to me - and to them."

Starscream's tone turned sneering and harsh. "And you know this ... how?"

Soundwave found himself standing motionless again. He knew Starscream, and recognized this reaction. Starscream trusted no one, and had been bitterly disappointed too many times in his life. In order to avoid the agony of another failed plan, and the far worse pain of being betrayed by those he trusted, he would prefer to stand alone. A good portion of his abrasive personality was an unconscious attempt to keep people from liking him. It hurt too much when those who might be friends later betrayed him.

He was testing the Prime. Again. It would be something he would do again and again. Soundwave hoped that Optimus's near-saintly patience would be sufficient to handle Starscream's abrasiveness and paranoia.

He made a mental note to discuss Starscream's psychology with Optimus in the very near future. Soundwave, however, had far less patience than Optimus when it came to Starscream's issues - and considerable experience dealing with him. He said bluntly, "Starscream: Motivated ending war, correct?"

"Yeah." Starscream folded his arms, looking suddenly very ill at ease.

"Starscream: Willing alliance Autobots, work together?"

"Yeah." Starscream sounded sullen.

"Prime, decision good trusting."

"You're slagging hard to understand, you know that?" Starscream shot him a dirty look. "Link with the kid or something so I know what you're trying to say."

Frenzy interrupted, "He means it's a good decision to work with Prime. You can infer he assumes you'll make good decisions. Soundwave knows you're not stupid. So does Prime. But hey - Soundwave's pretty vulnerable, too. We gotta protect him. He's being smart in letting you know his limitations so you can cover for him if you need to, but the rest of the Decepticons shouldn't know. They might make trouble if they think he's weak."

"Starscream, rationality level ... acceptable," Soundwave added. "Issues unlikely from Starscream. Others, dangerous."

"He means you're rational about the important slag, but ya gotta admit that there's some other 'cons who'd try to make trouble just for shits and giggles." Frenzy boldly met Soundwave's optics. "We'll translate for him in public so nobody knows, but you need to know his weaknesses so you can help cover for him too. Soundwave's mind's intact. He's a damned good asset."

Starscream glanced from Soundwave down to Frenzy and then back to Soundwave. He huffed a sigh. "Fine. You're all not completely slagging crazy, I suppose. Prime, I'll comm you after I get a chance to beat my staff into submission. Which will be after I assemble my staff. Or in some cases, reassemble them, given the injured list."

Frenzy snorted a laugh. Prime smiled a dignified smile.

Optimus reached a hand out and rested it on Starscream's arm. Firmly, he said, "Let me know if you need anything. I mean this literally - please ask me if you need energon, military backup, political intervention with the humans, medical care or supplies, or any other aid for your troops."

That earned him an optic roll from Starscream. "You don't know what you're offering. I might take you up on that offer."

"I will assist you in any way I am able." Optimus triggered his office door open with a burst of code. Ratchet was waiting in the hall with Inferno and Ironhide backing him up.

Starscream tensed, mouth opening to protest what he doubtless thought was a surprise ambush. Before he could say anything, however, Optimus rested a reassuring hand on his back. "Starscream, before you go, Ratchet has offered to give you a check-up and perform any repairs that you need."

"And this requires two of your heaviest hitters for backup?" Starscream rolled his optics a second time. "I was under the impression that the medic was able to handle himself as well as any warrior."

"Take it as a compliment." Ratchet advised, with a smirk. "You're such an amazing fighter that it takes three Autobots to keep you in line."

Starscream shut his mouth with an audible snap. He'd probably been about to say something rude and insulting. Instead, after a moment of suspicious analysis of Ratchet's words, he said, "If I really wanted to kill you lot, you'd need more than three grounders to take me out. Though granted, the medic probably counts twice. He's got damn good aim."

"Well, then, take it as a compliment that we trust you to behave." Ratchet clapped a hand on Starscream's back with considerably more force than Optimus had used and steered him down the hall. "Frenzy, why don't you tag along with me? Lord Starscream'll scare half my staff into glitching. I need an assistant who's not afraid of anyone."

"Sure thing, boss."

Soundwave mused that Frenzy was actually reasonably wary of Starscream. However, his symbiont's machismo wouldn't let him show it. The door slid shut as soon as Frenzy scrambled after them.

Optimus let out a long, slow ventilation, and ran a hand over his face. "That went far better than I had hoped."

"Optimus," Soundwave said, warning, "Starscream contains treachery."

"Yes, I am aware he can be treacherous."

"Meaning ... different. Starscream spark, contain treachery. Given, received. Often. Trust, slow. Betrayal, possible."

"You mean he's received treachery from others - it would be better to say he'd been betrayed, and has betrayed others." Optimus's smile was gentle. "Your language skills improve every day, but we will need to be careful that what you mean is truly understood. English can be as treacherous as Starscream. I am well aware that he is testing us to see if we mean to keep our word to him, or to find out if he can provoke me into violence. I believe, with patience, we can win his trust and loyalty."

He parsed that for a second, then nodded. It seemed he would not need to warn Optimus about Starscream's nature. The Prime already had him figured out. "Assessment of Starscream, correct. And Frenzy, translation skills excellent. Will assist."

"I know. His work is impressive." Optimus arms folded, expression thoughtful, regarded Soundwave for a long moment. "How are you doing, anyway?"

He wasn't entirely certain how to answer that. He finally settled on a literal, "Medical status, stable."

Optimus smiled. "Good to know. "

He realized his answer had been incorrect. He analyzed the question again, this time searching for the whole phrase. He finally realized that Optimus was asking about his emotional status.

He said, "... emotional status, positive."

"Good." Optimus sounded happier with that answer. "I'm glad to hear that. You're getting on well with Ratchet, then?"

"... Ratchet, excellent master."

Optimus's smile didn't lessen. "I am aware your relationship with him is more than that. Soundwave, I want to make sure you know that Ratchet doesn't see you as a servant. To him, you are a lover, friend, partner. You are his equal in all areas but rank in the med bay. I ... am proud of him in this."

He blinked. "Intent, to please Ratchet ..."

Optimus leaned back against his desk. "That may be your plan, but how do you feel about him?"

His logic centers promptly crashed, causing a cascade of brilliant red errors across his HUD. For a brief instant, nothing in the world seemed to make sense. They rebooted themselves after a few panicked nanoklicks of time, and then he blinked in surprise at Optimus. Ratchet warned him he would probably experience glitches and it seemed the strong emotional response to that question had just triggered his first one.

Optimus, oblivious to Soundwave's consternation, said, "He ... touched minds with you, when he healed you. He's hacked his fair share of mechs for both medical reasons and interrogation. I've never seen him react like this before to anyone." Optimus folded his arms over his chest and looked down at the ground between them. "But you also saw into his spark."

"Affirmative. Soundwave ..." he hesitated, unsure if he should admit to this. However, Optimus was a Prime, with all the wisdom that implied. "... desire ... everything. Cannot have, understand this. But desire."

"You've been bonded before. Ratchet confirmed who she was." Optimus glanced up. There was guilt in his gaze, Soundwave was certain of it. Once, Optimus had not believed in the truth of that bond.

He pointed out, "Bonding with Ratchet, unwise."

He didn't even know if he could merge successfully, given the damage to his CPU. If he did, what sort of communication would follow?

Optimus was silent for a long, long, long moment. He seemed to gaze out at nothing, and Soundwave's suspicion that he was thinking of the past was confirmed when he said, "I owe you an apology, Soundwave. For what happened, back then, so long ago."

He shook his head. Optimus was referring to old, old, history. "Decision correct, following analysis information available Prime. No blame."

"Slaggit!" The sudden, sharp obscenity, mildly profane though it was, was a shock coming from Prime. He'd never heard Optimus swear before. "It was the wrong decision. I was new, and young, and stupid. It cost you so much ..."

"Material things." Soundwave sighed. It didn't matter now. "End result, same, over time. Soundwave, lose fortune either way. War came. Iacon, destroyed. Industries, gone. No income. Inflation, destroy savings. Even if case won, inheritance still lost."

"Even so, you should have won that court case." Optimus sounded as tired as Soundwave felt. His momentary flare of anger was gone. Voice somber, he admitted, "My instincts said I was missing something, but I was so naive. I could not believe that anyone would lie before Primus over, as you said, material things."

Soundwave stood silently, unsure if he'd understood correctly and even less certain of how to respond. Finally, he said, humor flaring to the forefront, "Optimus, experienced now. Trust less. Lesson learned, made better Prime. Yes?"

Optimus's chuckle was unexpected, but also a relief. He didn't want Optimus treating him like he was a personal burden to bear. The Prime leaned against his desk again, posture casual, arms folded across his chest, blue optics a bit distant with old memories. "Very true, my friend."

Friend. Optimus used the word casually, but to Soundwave, the meaning was anything but simple.

"Prime," Soundwave mimicked Optimus's casual stance by relaxing his shoulder struts a bit, letting his armor hang loosely, and shifting more weight onto his good leg. "Soundwave ... partnered above, greatly, social station. Fairwind family resented. Opportunities lost for Fairwind's family. Alliance for business, not love, encouraged. Bonding in defiance of family wishes done. When Fairwind die, retaliation inevitable. Legal system abused. Inheritance lost. Soundwave, not nobility. Soundwave, born lowest of castes. Soundwave, born barbarian. No allies, no influence. Carriers discrimination common against. Carrier culture misunderstood often. End result, inevitable. Soundwave unable to prevail against beliefs of others, even if beliefs untrue."

"That's a terribly jaded viewpoint, though I'll concede you're speaking from experience." Optimus dragged a hand over his face. "You should have won that legal case. She left everything to you and they stole it from you. For what it's worth, there's no statute of limitation for false testimony to a Prime."

Soundwave considered this. Fairwind's family - lying thieves that they were - were nearly all dead, but some of their servants still lived and those servants had testified. As he'd indicated, the fortune was long gone. The factories were slag, the banks that held his inheritance had defaulted, and the companies he should have owned no longer even existed. He had no idea of the status of the physician who had committed blatant perjury and stated that Soundwave had never been bonded. Did he want to pursue a case, if he ever had a chance?

His only possible motive to do so would be revenge.

He had kept his true relationship with Fairwinds very quiet, telling few. It had certainly not been common public knowledge, though the gossip among the noble classes had been vicious and vile. Few mechs realized there was a profound distinction between a partner bond and a symbiotic bond, and the frequent implication was that Fairwinds had allowed herself to become bound in a submissive relationship to a common carrier. 'Carrier' being interchangeable with 'slave master' in most Cybertronian circles, this was a profound insult to both of them.

When she had died, her will had left every bit of her substantial fortune - factories, trading ships, vast financial accounts, investments on and off world, art collections, multiple estates, indentured servants - to Soundwave. The will had, unfortunately, also described him as her bondmate, not her aide de camp, as was his official role.

The family had hired - bribed, presumably - a well known physician to examine Soundwave and declare that he had never been bonded. On those grounds, and with various other falsified evidence, the will was deemed fraudulent. It was voided, and her wealthy, noble family had inherited everything. He had been left with only the contents of his savings account.

Over his many years of service as her assistant, he had carefully set aside a sum each month from his salary. He had also made a select few cautious investments. The sum total of his personal funds had been just enough to buy the contracts for two young twin symbionts from the estate at full market value ... after the twins had run away.

He was not bitter. In the end, he was the only one who'd retained anything of value. The estate was long gone to the ravages of war. But he'd won the sparks of Rumble and Frenzy, purchased from the estate with his savings, and he would not have traded the two of them for ten times the inheritance that he had lost.

He missed Rumble. His fierce, desperate desire to protect Frenzy and ensure his safety at all costs surged in his spark.

Optimus said, gently, "Soundwave?"

"No. No prosecution." He was uncomfortable with the idea, for reasons he could not have articulated even before the damage to his language centers. "Soundwave preference: Forget past, focus future."

Optimus's gaze turned suddenly sharp. "You truly believe that, don't you? You're focused on the future, not the past."

"Affirmative." To bring up the past was to remind himself of so much pain. The future was a bright place - it held the promise of the end of a war. And Ratchet. Ratchet, who wanted him as an equal partner in a relationship, not as a servant to a master.

"I ... believe you will do very well in the role of liaison between factions. We all need to focus on the future and forgive the past. It is the only way we will end this war." Optimus gave him a quick flash of a smile. Then he sobered.

"Soundwave, I would also point out that there is a critical difference between your relationship with Fairwinds and your relationship with Ratchet. While I have no doubt that Fairwinds loved you deeply, you had no other allies but her and your symbionts. When she passed, you were utterly alone save for Ravage and your avian twins, correct?"

"Affirmative." He had not bonded with Frenzy and Rumble until well after her death. He had purchased them only to free them. It had been vorns before he had located the pair and told them they were free; they had even lived as fugitives unnecessarily until he had found them.

"You have a place among us, Soundwave, and my support and backing. Ratchet is one of my closest and oldest friends, and I find no reason to object to your relationship with him - and many reasons to encourage both of you. You have a home here."

His logic center was threatening to glitch again. "Soundwave, enemy. Optimus trusts now?"

"Would you betray us?"

"Negative."

"Then I have no reason to mistrust you. You have had ample opportunity to do us harm, and you have not. Ratchet has seen into the very essence of your being, and vouches for you. Prowl and Jazz have jointly analyzed your behavior and motives and they have given me a positive report. Most importantly, however, the Matrix speaks for you. You are not my enemy, and I would be honored if you would consider me your friend."

He digested that for a long, silent moment. Elation soared in his spark, mixed with anxiety. Was Optimus telling the truth? Of course Optimus was telling the truth; the mech did not have a single molecule of deceit in his spark. Elation, because even Megatron had never quite trusted him. More, he inferred that Optimus valued him.

And ... friends? He'd had so very few true friends in his life.

Soundwave said quietly, "Statements ... appreciated. However, Soundwave unable to wear Autobot sigil now. Starscream react badly. Soundwave preference being Autobot, if not political problems. Optimus, worth loyalty."

Optimus's smile was genuine, and bright. He extended a hand to Soundwave, and Soundwave - after a nanoclick of puzzled scrutiny - realized that Optimus wanted to shake hands. He extended his own hand, and they grasped wrists. Optimus squeezed his shoulder with his free hand and said firmly, "It is not necessary for you to become an Autobot for you to be my friend, advisor, and ally. If this works and we make peace with the Decepticons, there will be no need for you to become an Autobot. I would have you among my circle of advisors, many of whom will necessarily not be Autobots. If it doesn't, and we war again ... I will accept your oath, and gladly."

"Thank you."

Perhaps he could not become an Autobot, but something shifted in Soundwave's core coding. If Ratchet was his equal, his partner, he needed a leader. Before him stood the Prime, tall and proud, regal and powerful. Optimus was a mech he could trust, and who would accept - without question - his loyalty.

Soundwave would serve him. If Optimus didn't want to make it official, it didn't matter. He would serve quietly, but with loyalty, oaths unspoken but all the more real because he didn't need to say anything. Optimus trusted him. And Optimus would not object to leading him. Unlike Ratchet, the Prime had been created and chosen by Primus himself to lead their people. Soundwave could be loyal, could commit his servitude, to no better mech than Optimus.

"You should see Starscream off, and Ratchet's shift is also ending soon," Optimus said, releasing him. "I shouldn't monopolize any more of your time. I'm glad we could talk, however."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thanks, big boss!" Frenzy, who had been silent and watchful, suddenly piped up.

"Of course." Optimus's response was grave, but his optics were smiling at both of them.

Then, feeling more optimistic and hopeful than he had in eons, he headed for the door. He did want to have a private word with Starscream, and he found that he was longing for Ratchet's company later.

But at the forefront of his thoughts was the realization that Optimus Prime truly had faith in him. It meant more than he could ever express, even had he not been damaged.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

* * *

"'Jackie, do you have a laser level I could borrow?" Grapple asked as stuck his head through Wheeljack's workshop doorway. With an irritated grumble, Grapple added, "Skyfire borrowed mine and he _hasn't given it back_."

Wheeljack said mildly, "I'm sure Skyfire will give yours back when he's out of the med bay. But yes, you may borrow my level."

Grapple sub-spaced the tool quickly. "You can't _even _guess what Prowl's got me doing."

"Working with the new symbionts? Yes, I'm aware. Command wants them to have some useful skills. The goal is to integrate them with human society in ways we can't. Prowl's analysis - and I agree - is that they have real potential to find work in the construction trades."

Grapple rolled his optics. "I just don't see why it's my job to _train _them."

Wheeljack shrugged. "Look at it this way - you've got free help."

"Useless free help. They don't know slag."

"So make them _useful _free help." Wheeljack realized he'd been sucked into one of Grapple's notorious pity parties, and added, with the command authority he rarely used, "Do you have a problem with your orders?"

Wheeljack was head of engineering, and outranked Grapple and most of the rest of the engineering, facilities, and science staff. Grapple technically reported to him. He just rarely bothered to exercise that authority as in practice the architect worked directly with the command staff on various projects. However, Wheeljack found he was unusually annoyed by Grapple's attitude and his words suddenly acquired a bite of steel to them. He could be an officer when he wanted to.

Grapple, hearing the normally affable engineer's warning tone, and perhaps remembering that Wheeljack was more than capable of wiping the training room floor with his aft, huffed. "I'll deal with it. Anyway, _that's _not what I was referring to. Do you know they have me building an office for the Decepticon?"

"Which one?" Wheeljack said, purposefully playing dumb. His optics did not lose their warning scowl and the bright play of colors across his earfins was notably absent - a sure sign he was pissed, to those who were observant enough to notice. He was well aware of Prowl's request to Grapple, since he'd seen the duty roster earlier that day.

"Tall, dark, and silent." Grapple growled.

Wheeljack said slowly, "... Skywarp? No, he's not silent. Starscream certainly isn't _dark_. Do you mean Shockwave - but why would we be building an office for Shockwave?"

The Deception scientist had been keeping a low profile since the coup. Not even Starscream was certain which faction he'd side with, if any. Neither side had any useful intelligence on his whereabouts. Shockwave was a wildcard, and one that made Wheeljack deeply uneasy.

"_Soundwave_." Grapple bit the carrier's designation out as if it tasted foul.

"I thought you said a _Decepticon_." Wheeljack said, letting his optics and earfins light up with exaggerated comprehension.

"Oh, don't tell me he's befuddled you, too. Somebody needs to double check that his telepathy mods are really gone. There's far too many people who've joined the Soundwave fan club for it to be _natural_."

"I am not his _fan_. However, I _respect _him a great deal." Wheeljack retorted. Then he turned on one heel, opened a cabinet, and pulled a box out. From the box, he produced a dented and water-damaged clump of circuit boards and clusters of capacitors and random wires roughly the size of his fist. He set the module down on his work bench with an audible thunk. The device was heavy, due to the amount of metal in the capacitors.

"This," Wheeljack said, voice turned cold and hard, "is Soundwave's mod for telepathy. It was installed when he was a newly separated sparkling, and his systems integrated it quite thoroughly into his neural pathways as he grew. It cannot be replaced due to both the damage he took, and the fact that what's _left _of his sensory arrays are fully mature and are no longer able to integrate new hardware without the assistance of technology we no longer have. The manufacturer of this modification is also long out of business, and repair parts are no longer available. We lack the ability to fabricate the quantum arrays this used. Do you have any further questions?"

Grapple stared at the damaged piece of Soundwave's neural net. He said nothing.

Quietly, Wheeljack put the part away. Then he added, in a softer tone, "I was skeptical of him too, at first, Grapple. I would suggest that you get to know him before you judge him. Also, trust Prime's judgement - and Jazz's and Prowl's. I have never known Jazz to be a poor judge of character, and Prowl believes he may play a vital role in securing _peace _for us. Prowl has requested that you build Soundwave an office because both Prime and Prowl believe he is integral to our efforts to end the war, and he will _need _an office of his own."

The architect vented an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose it's not my strangest assignment ever. I think that was building a den for your dinobots. _Which they promptly destroyed! _But very well - do you have some scans of Soundwave's dimensions, or do I need to get them from Hatchet?"

"Ratch's in surgery right now. Get the specs from Frenzy. I'm sure he knows. Oh, and don't forget your assignment includes building Frenzy a desk too."

"I _do _understand the assignment. I'm _not _incompetent. Something everyone seems to forget. I swear you lot all think I'm an idiot sometimes."

"No," Wheeljack said with a smile that took the sting from his words, "You're not an idiot, you're just _cranky_. And you're tired of the war destroying all your hard work. Look at it this way - be nice to Soundwave, and maybe you'll get to build things that aren't promptly blown up in the next battle."

Grapple rolled his optics, threw his hands up, and marched out of the lab. "Fine!"

Wheeljack shook his head. To Perceptor, who was in microscope form on his work bench, he observed, "I swear by Primus, that mech expends more energy trying to find things wrong with the world than I do blowing things up."

Perceptor's chuckle was richly amused. The microscope said, "Do I sense a potential new subject for a research study?"

"No time." Wheeljack patted Perceptor as he walked past. "How's the analysis coming on those fuel samples?"

"I have _no _idea how the Decepticons have been functioning on the dreck they term energon. The viscosity is off by .025 percent, and there are forty-seven potentially harmful impurities that I have detected so far. I estimate it will take me a few additional moments to finish the spectroscopic analysis and approximately thirty minutes produce a detailed report of the systemic effects the pollutants are likely to have caused."

"Good. Ratchet's breathing down my neck for the details. According to Ratch, most of the Decepticons he's seen have major fuel system issues caused by long-term neglect and malnutrition, including Starscream. He's genuinely concerned for their health."

"Did you ever think we'd be working to _treat _Decepticon soldiers?" The microscope asked softly. Something clicked and whirred inside his frame as he brought a new spectroscopic lens to bear on the fuel sample he was analyzing.

"Honestly? Yes." Wheeljack smiled behind his blast mask. "If we won the war, I knew that one of Prime's first steps would be to extend an offer of medical care to the 'Con troops. Percy, by treating them, we're healing more than just their frames. It's a step towards healing the hatred and building goodwill and trust, too."

"You're probably right." Perceptor transformed, unfolding to his full height. "I'm so sick of fighting, I'm willing to try anything."

* * *

"... an office?" Soundwave blinked behind his visor, the brief flash of light visible as he reset his optics. Jazz and Prime, who both lived to make others happy, had insisted on _surprising _Soundwave with his very own office.

Ratchet clapped him on the shoulder. "They decided you needed one in a staff meeting yesterday. It's just down the hall from the med bay."

"... appreciation, significant. Concur, office needed for work as liaison. However, swiftness unexpected ... borrow desk, use conference room, sufficient for short term. Unexpected."

"Mmmhmm. We know you could work out of one of the conference rooms, but we expect you to be around for a long time, and we wanted to set a room up that would be comfortable for you. C'mon, let's go take a look."

Soundwave, bemused, followed Ratchet down the hall a few hundred yards. There were several offices off this stretch of corridor including ones for Skyfire, Hot Spot, Silverbolt and Inferno. All were tall mecha, so this section of the base was undoubtedly designed for the larger framed Autobots. His door turned out to be at the very end.

The door slid open at his approach, apparently keyed to his biosigns. It was a generously large room, with ample room for a desk, monitors, and several chairs around a low table, with space to spare. Frenzy had a desk mounted on shelf on the wall, which would put him at eye level to an average mech. It appeared to be very functional and well-designed, and it had already been stocked with datapads, maps, and printed reports. An "In-box" was overflowing with datapads that needed secure answers.

Grapple was still inside, somewhat to Soundwave's silent dismay. Despite his skill, the architect was unpleasant to deal with, and he had been bitingly sarcastic to Soundwave the few times they had needed to interact. Soundwave prided himself on having thick plating when it came to insults, but he also had a deep desire to fit in among the Autobots. Grapple's hostility was dismaying, even though he knew logically that some mecha might never accept him. Even the majority of Decepticons had little love for him, and he had spent more than three quarters of his life a 'con.

"Soundwave," a voice said, drawing his attention from Grapple.

The mech speaking had used _just _his name, in English, and he had a peculiar quaver audible even in that one word.

And then, the mech said a single word in Cybertronian. Very much to Soundwave's surprise the sound wasn't meaningless static. He had heard a word so integral to the core of his being that he recognized it on a level beyond mere language. It was a word he hadn't heard directed at him in thousands upon thousands of vorns.

"_Song_."

His _name_. His _first _name. He'd learned to identify the sound as his designation before he'd learned to speak. It wasn't language that he heard, it was a sound that cut straight through to his spark.

The speaker was a symbiont, a biped mechling a head taller than Frenzy and far more heavily built. He had red and gold armor, and golden optics. He bore no faction glyph, though an achingly familiar clan badge was etched onto both pauldrons. The sturdy older symbiont had a rail gun strapped to his forearm, multiple throwing knives magnetically clipped to his thighs, and a plasma blaster mounted on one shoulder - that weapon appeared to be a standard sized sidearm modified to attach to the mechling's frame. The blaster was new, but the knives and rail gun were exactly as Soundwave remembered.

"It's _Killaglitch _in English," the little mech said, softly. "They tell me you can't understand Cybertronian any more. Or call me Killa, it's what everyone else does. _Song _- Soundwave - you do recognize me?"

"Affirmative." The word generated by his visor did not show any hint of the emotions that threatened to bring him to his knees. He'd neglected to tag the words with emoticons in his raw shock. He struggled to find words to express himself. Finally, he said in real distress, but with his voice still in a flat monotone, "... Soundwave, outcast from clan. Killaglitch, forbidden to speak to."

"Oh, slag all that to the pit and back." The symbiont snapped. "Fallsky never should have kicked you out. He was a selfish, stupid, arrogant, aft of a slagheaded moron and the worst leader our clan ever had. Anyone with half a wit could have seen that you and Ravage were _made _for each other. And you were so _young_."

He had to agree with that assessment, and it was a relief to hear it from this symbiont. He picked the past tense out of Killaglitch's words, however, and tentatively asked, "Fallsky ... deceased?"

"You didn't know?" Killaglitch's expression softened. He took two steps towards Soundwave, and stopped at the edge of the desk. "Ah, _Song_. I'm sorry."

"Deaths, suspected. Entire clan, believed deceased. _You _believed deceased. Who lives?" He stumbled towards Killa, nearly falling in his haste. Ratchet, behind him, steadied him but said nothing.

Killaglitch's optics widened at Soundwaves's unsteady steps, but he answered quickly. "There's me, and some symbionts who were born after you left, including my daughter. And Scrapfinder and Galeforce, who were bonded out to other clans, but came back when their carriers died. And Glit - you knew him, but he wasn't part of our clan until a few decavorns ago when he left the 'cons and we took him in. He's my daughter's progenitor. Soundwave, I'm so sorry. All the carriers, everyone else, are all dead. I didn't know for sure you were alive until the Autobots confirmed that you were our _Song_."

Ratchet's hand touched Soundwave's back, gently. "Are you okay, Soundwave?"

"Very ... surprised." He stepped towards Killaglitch, with more balance now. Ratchet's hand remained resting between his shoulders, a warm comfort. He told Killaglitch, "I ... pleased. Feared all dead."

"I've _missed _you." Killaglitch held his arms out. "I've missed you so much."

Soundwave dropped all pretense of dignity. For a moment, he was a youngling again, outcast and bereft of everyone he'd ever known. He pulled Killaglitch off the table and into his arms and held him close. The symbiont, bigger and heavier than Frenzy, wrapped both his arms around Soundwave's neck and buried his face in Soundwave's plating.

Soundwave sank to his knees. Dimly, he was aware of Ratchet following him down. The medic was simultaneously putting one arm around his shoulders in support and shared joy, and likely scanning him for glitches. All Soundwave could focus on was the familiar weight of Killaglitch in his arms. Killa's systems sounded just as he remembered, and his embrace was just as fiercely tight. The little mech had the heavy armor plating and upgraded power plant of a symbiont born in the badlands to a clan wealthy enough to afford modifications at birth to their offspring. The rail gun made his right arm weigh more than his left as the weight of the coils was substantial. The energon throwing knives created a faint static fuzz against Soundwave's own field. He was taller, and far more solid, than Frenzy. This was all achingly familiar.

He'd held this mech before. He'd held him tight and close as a youngling, when he had so few friends and so many enemies even among his own family. Untold times, his father had raged at one slight or another and he and Killa had hidden together until the storm of his father's temper was over. They had played together, hunted together, worked together, and lived together for the first twenty vorns of Soundwave's life. He hadn't seen him since. But he'd never forgotten, _could _never forget, this mech. Beyond simply being a clan symbiont, Killaglitch had been his _friend_.

He didn't realize he was keening with grief for what he'd lost, and joy for what he'd found, until he heard Grapple say to Ratchet, "Is he okay?"

"Does he _look _okay?" Ratchet snapped back.

Soundwave struggled for control. With difficulty, he mastered his emotions, and said carefully, "Reaction, due to surprise. Mostly, joy. Killaglitch, beloved. Believed dead."

The door slid open at that time. Frenzy waltzed through, took in the scene, quirked an optic ridge up, and said, "Should I be expecting a new brother?"

Killa laughed. He slid to the ground. "You must be Frenzy. Sandflower told me about you. And - I don't know. We'll have to see what happens. I'm a bit old to take another master, though, and Sandy kinda likes Soundwave herself."

"Sandflower, _too young_." Soundwave hissed, shocked.

"Like you're one to talk." Killaglitch smacked Soundwave on the arm with a clang. "Twenty vorns old and bonded to a 20,000 vorn old cybercat."

Frenzy, optics wide, said, "You were a _minor _when you bonded to Ravage?"

Killaglitch laughed. "Never told the kid, did you, Soundwave?"

"Date, irrelevant. Soundwave, psychologically ready."

"And that's the truth. I think Soundwave was _born _old and wise." Killa fondly patted his arm.

"No bonding intended for now." Soundwave said, climbing to his feet. Despite his words, however, he picked Killaglitch up with familiar ease, and lifted the symbiont up to the top of the desk. Frenzy just fired the thrusters in his feet and joined him. Side by side, the difference between the two was even more obvious. Frenzy, city bred and impoverished in his early years, was smaller and far more lightly built despite the fact that Soundwave had arranged for every possible defensive upgrade that Frenzy's systems could support. Frenzy, however, had foot thrusters and Killaglitch didn't. Thrusters used considerable energon and were mods that were rarely installed by non-military mecha.

To Soundwave, Frenzy felt suspicious and perhaps a little jealous across the bond. Soundwave reached out and stroked a hand down Frenzy's back. "Killaglitch, this Frenzy. My symbiont, dear to me. Much valued. _Beloved._"

Frenzy's mood settled and a warm glow filled their bond. Despite that, his symbiont edged away however and said, "Enough with the warm fuzzies. You're gonna give me rust."

Soundwave was like a different mech in the presence of his childhood friend. Ratchet sat at the desk in his quarters, ostensibly fiddling with a broken comm unit over an evening cube of high grade. He wasn't getting much work done on the unit, however as most of his attention was on Killaglitch and Soundwave.

The elder symbiont sat crosslegged on Ratchet's dining table, facing Soundwave. Soundwave, for once, was also indulging in a cube of high grade. He sipped from it only occasionally, and Ratchet suspected that the reason he was drinking was because he'd wanted to offer Killaglitch a cube.

Ratchet had made a point to steer Soundwave to the good stuff in his cabinet, too. He had a few large cubes of precious Praxian Crystal Magma left and he had cracked one open for the occasion despite Soundwave's protests. He was incredibly pleased that Soundwave had found his old friend, and felt it was as good an opportunity as any to celebrate.

The symbiont was chattering away, filling Soundwave in on his life for the last few eons. By the tone of his voice, he was just buzzed enough to be happy and talkative, without being actually _drunk_.

Soundwave had retracted his blast mask and had an open smile on his face as he listened. He had laughed several times, and while he didn't say a lot, what questions and comments he did make were unguarded. He _trusted _the sturdy elder symbiont, that was certainly obvious. The amount of high grade Soundwave had consumed would do little to alter his baseline energy levels, so his relaxed demeanor was entirely natural.

Ratchet was very, very, pleased to see Soundwave forget his worries for a short while and simply enjoy the reunion with an old friend.

_:Boss is happy,: _Frenzy commented.

_:You doing okay, kid?: _Ratchet looked over at Frenzy. The little mech was curled up on the couch, playing a video game on a datapad. Was Frenzy jealous?

_:Huh? I'm fine.: _Frenzy said, and sounded like he meant it. _:It's really good to hear Soundwave laughing.:_

_:Soundwave really seems to like Killaglitch.: _He probed anyway. He was worried.

_:He never even mentioned him to me before.: _Frenzy said, matter of factly. _:The boss doesn't like to talk about things that hurt, so I guess he missed him bad. - You know, I don't know much about his early life at all. He doesn't discuss it.:_

_:That can't be healthy.:_

_:Duh.: _Frenzy looked up from his game. _:I think I like Killa. It'd be nice to have a brother, and Soundwave likes him. And hey, he's got all sorts of cool dirt on the Boss. I never knew he was underage when he met Ravage! That explains _so _much, actually.:_

_:You're okay if they bond, then?:_

Frenzy looked back down at his game, but his strong shoulders shrugged once, quickly. _:I'd want to get to know him first, but if the Boss wants him - it'd be good for Soundwave. I want Soundwave to be happy, bottom line.:_

Curious, Ratchet looked over at him. _:Traditionally speaking, how much say do symbionts get when their masters want to add someone to the family?:_

Frenzy fiddled with the game for a moment, then shut it off. He crossed the room and scrambled up onto the desk beside Ratchet, where he sat down on the edge. He swung his legs for a moment, watching Soundwave and Killaglitch. His answer wasn't immediate, but Ratchet waited patiently, knowing Frenzy well enough by now to know was just organizing his thoughts.

He turned his attention to his lover and the new symbiont. Killaglitch was transmitting pictures and videos to a datapad from his memory files. He was sharing memories, Ratchet realized. Normally two mechs would simply transmit that sort of data back and forth, but Soundwave's damage prevented normal file transfers. Killaglitch was showing Soundwave snippets of his life. Ratchet heard laughter, and the squeal of a sparkling, from the datapad. Soundwave touched the screen with one blunt finger, gently, head bowed. He rested his other hand on Killaglitch's back and said softly, "Regrets, expressed."

Frenzy finally answered Ratchet's question. _:We get a lot of say. The thing about being bonded - and you can't know this until you've really experienced it - is that you can't be happy if your partner's miserable.:_

Ratchet met Frenzy's red optics. Frenzy's expression was uncharacteristically soft and open. The symbiont said, _:I'm gonna make an effort to get to know Killa. It would be good for Soundwave to have someone else besides me. If anything ever happened to me ...: _

Frenzy trailed off for a moment. _:Ratch, if anything ever happens to me an' he doesn't have someone else, Soundwave might try to follow me to the Well.:_

_:I ... don't know what would be best.: _Ratchet admitted. _:He'd be so alone without you.:_

Frenzy shook his head. _:It's his choice what he wants to do, but I think you'd have a chance at keepin' him here. He loves you.:_

_:I'm pretty fond of him, too, scraplet, but it's not the same as being bonded to someone.:_

_:Don't call me that!: _Frenzy shot him an irritated glare. _:I'm not a child.:_

_:Sorry, kiddo.: _

Frenzy slapped Ratchet on the arm with considerable force. Though his pile drivers had been taken away, he still had upgraded hydraulics in his shoulders and arms.

"Ow!" Ratchet recoiled. He'd forgotten just how hard Frenzy could hit, despite past personal experience.

Frenzy grinned at him, eyes dancing with dark amusement. His introspective mood had vanished as quickly as it had come. "Wimp."

"Frenzy, behave." Soundwave didn't even look in Frenzy's direction. He was focused on Killa's datapad.

Frenzy swung his legs back and forth over the edge of the desk with considerable force for a moment. Then he said, _:Would you be okay with it?:_

_:With you denting me?: _Ratchet said sourly, inspecting his arm

_:With the Boss bonding to more symbionts. I know you get me 'n Soundwave are a unit, but you gonna be okay with a whole bunch more brats like me under foot?:_

It was a fair question. Frenzy's red optics regarded him warily, waiting for his answer. He gave it the consideration it was due, then said, _:It would depend on the mechs, I suppose.:_

_:Fair enough.: _Frenzy's right knee was clicking as he swung his feet. _:That's how I feel about it too.:_

_:You've got a chipped gear, kiddo.:_

_:Eh, nothing major.:_

He opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out his repair kit. Gears and cogs were fairly standardized, and he had the same size part in his thumbs that Frenzy had in his knees. He found the gear he needed and told Frenzy, aloud, "That noise is driving me nuts. Hold still."

Frenzy froze, and looked over at Soundwave. _:The boss usually does my repairs.:_

_:Yeah, well, we're a family now, like you said. Hold still.:_

Frenzy huffed but remained motionless as Ratchet numbed the sensors in his knee with a burst of medical code, then unbolted several pieces of armor. The damaged gear was easy enough to get to, and Ratchet worked with calm confidence to replace it. Soundwave gave them one sharp look, but did not object to Ratchet's maintenance work.

_:Ratch,: _Frenzy began tentatively, _:He _really _loves you. More than that, he trusts you.:_

Ratchet glanced up at Frenzy's expression, with was cautiously guarded. _:It's mutual.:_

_:He's anxious.: _Frenzy folded his arms cross his chest, body language mirroring his own anxiety at this discussion. He started to swing his free leg, and Ratchet stopped the motion with a firm hand. If Frenzy moved too much it made dismantling his knee more difficult. _:Every time you guys get together, he's anxious. I think he's worried you don't love him back the way he loves you.:_

_:Well,: _Ratchet said, a huff in his voice, _:I _have _told him how I feel.:_

_:Words.: _Frenzy shook his head. _:People lie all the time. You wouldn't believe how many people have lied to Soundwave, _important _people and _important _lies. He was a telepath. He knew. I think that's one of the reasons he covers his face, and modified his voice. It made it easier to hide his reaction when somebody lied to him about something important. An' now - now he can't know for sure you're telling the truth. Neither can I.:_

Ratchet finished the quick repair, then, since he already had his repair kit out, he inspected Frenzy's tiny hands. As was typical for a mech who worked hard and played harder, Frenzy had a few tension wires that needed to be adjusted. He zoomed his vision in on the delicate wires and began to adjust them. _:I'm not sure how to fix that, Frenzy. I'm not a shrink. I could have him talk to Smokescreen ...:_

_:You should merge with him,: _Frenzy blurted out.

_:What?: _Ratchet jerked his head up.

_:He needs to know. I know it'd break half a dozen regulations an' you two ain't been together long, but he needs to know where you stand.: _

Ratchet squirted a bit of fine machine oil into Frenzy's finger joints, then wiped the excess off with a rag. _:Seems to me you were accusing me of taking advantage of him just a few weeks ago. Now you want me to merge with him? I think you might want to know for _yourself_, too.:_

_:Well, d'uh.: _Frenzy pulled his hands away and folded his arms defensively once more.

Ratchet crouched to look Frenzy in the optics at his level. Frenzy averted his gaze, then forced himself to turn his head back and meet Ratchet's sharp look when Ratchet didn't move. _:Frenzy, I love him.:_

Frenzy chewed on his lip plate. _:Merge with him. Prove it to him.:_

_:I don't even know if he'd want to merge with me.: _

_:Only one way to find out,: _Frenzy said, with a teasing grin.

Ratchet rubbed his forehead with two fingers. _:Normally, it would be against regulations, but Optimus is fine with it because he's a romantic old fool. He's actually suggested I merge with your boss before. And Soundwave isn't a POW anymore - his official status is that of a neutral with a very high level security clearance. If anyone - Red Alert - fussed too much, I could cite a few regulations at 'em in my defense.:_

Frenzy poked Ratchet in the arm. _:Hey, any chance you could put a good word in for me'n Steeljaw, then?:_

_:Are you really _ready _for that step?: _His question was as serious as Frenzy's was joking.

_:I'm a symbiont. I've shared sparks plenty of times before. It's in our hard code to be willing share our sparks with others.: _Frenzy's optics gleamed. _:Just never done it with a lover before. That sounds like an awful lot of fun - sharing arousal in a merge. Whee!:_

_:Ahem. I'll talk to Prime. You keep up the good work around here, and they might just upgrade your clearance enough. Pit knows you'll be working with enough classified material as a liaison between factions that we might have to upgrade _Steeljaw's _security clearance to match _yours._:_

Frenzy blinked. _:Really?:_

_:Eh, I'm not the one to make the decisions, but I wouldn't object. I trust you_._:_

Frenzy shuttered his optics a few times in surprise. Ratchet realized it was the _trust _comment that had provoked that comment when the symbiont said, _:You do?:_

_:Pit, Kiddo. You slagging sleep in my quarters and have free run of my med bay. What do _you _think?:_

Hesitantly, Frenzy touched a hand to Ratchet's arm. _:Thank you, Ratch.:_

_:Don't go all mushy on me. Why don't you scram and go find Steeljaw? He should be coming off shift in a few moments.: _

Fifteen minutes after Frenzy left, Killaglitch shut his datapad down with real reluctance. "I've got an evening meeting with Scrapfinder in a few minutes, Soundwave. I've got to go."

Soundwave nodded. "Meet again, tomorrow? Time, enjoyable."

"For certain." Killaglitch leaned his stocky frame against Soundwave's chest when Soundwave lifted him off the table, and he hugged Soundwave tightly around the neck. "I've missed you, my friend."

After Killa had left, Ratchet watched Soundwave for a moment. Soundwave drained the last of the single cube of high grade he'd nursed all evening. He was staring out at nothing in particular, head aimed at a blank spot on their quarters' wall.

Ratchet rose, and dimmed the lights as he did. He pinged his quarters' sound system to play a classical tune from the golden ages that he'd learned Soundwave loved. He didn't have much experience at seduction, but could at least give a stab at the basics.

Soundwave, clearly surprised, turned to look at Ratchet. One optic ridge lifted above his visor.

Ratchet held a hand out, and pulled Soundwave to his feet. With only a little embarrassed hesitation he said, "It has been a good day, lover."

"... affirmative." Soundwave reached out to stroke long fingers down Ratchet's arm. "Love me, desired?"

"Mmm." Ratchet pressed himself into Soundwave's embrace. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he _liked _the fact that Soundwave was taller than he was. He liked the way Soundwave's arms could completely encircle his frame, and the way his head rested comfortably against Soundwave's shoulder. Still, his imagination failed to produce any seductive or sexy comment that wouldn't sound ridiculous coming from a cranky medic who was older than the Pit. He settled for small talk. "I'm glad you found your friend."

"Ratchet, no jealousy?"

"Pit no. I'm a big bot, I can share you." He rested his forehead against Soundwave's shoulder pauldron. "As long as it's not in the _berth_."

"No sexual desire, Killaglitch." Soundwave took the teasing comment literally.

"He's a bit small, true." Ratchet tried to turn it into a joke.

"Size, irrelevant."

"I don't know, I find _your _size quite relevant."

Soundwave missed the innuendo. Instead, he said, "Soundwave, of average height for carrier mecha."

Ratchet gave up on teasing his lover. Soundwave had spent the entire day in conversation with others, and was probably exhausted. It took a considerable amount of his neural resources for him to communicate via the Rube Goldberg-esq system they had devised. He had, as the humans said, most likely hit the wall and wasn't up to anything but literal translation at the moment.

"Are you tired?" Ratchet inquired, though he knew the answer.

Soundwave traced his strong fingers over Ratchet's helm crest. "Ratchet, desires making love?"

"Yes. But we need to talk." Ratchet pushed back. At this close range, and with the lights in the room low, he could see Soundwave's optics through the visor. Behind the flicker of Soundwave's HUD, he saw Soundwave's optics widen with concern and fear. He reviewed what he said, but could see nothing that should have alarmed his lover.

Soundwave followed him into the berth room, his tall form silent and his body language closed off. The door slid shut behind them. Soundwave stood, making no move towards the berth. Instead, he asked, "Ratchet, how can I change my behavior to please you?"

Ratchet absently noted that Soundwave had produced a complete, grammatically correct sentence. However, that observation was overshadowed by what Soundwave had just _said_. "What?"

Soundwave was simply silent, correctly inferring that Ratchet's exclamation had been strictly rhetorical.

Ratchet muttered a curse in Cybertronian, then said, "Pit knows I'm a tactless old bastard. Soundwave, I _love _you and you don't need to change anything. It scares me to death how well we match."

Soundwave's vocalizer clicked a couple of times, as if Soundwave wanted to speak through his own systems. Finally, he said with the visor, "You are ... lover. Compatible, yes. Desire to please. Soundwave, imperfect. Understand this. Soundwave will modify actions to please Ratchet. Will be who Ratchet wants, to best of ability. Soundwave will compensate for damage with extra effort. Tell me, what can I do to please you?"

When they'd first made love, Soundwave had been wary of spiking Ratchet while simultaneously too nervous about _being _spiked to enjoy it. Since Soundwave's realization that Ratchet wanted a lover, not submissive servant, Soundwave had been more comfortable with using his spike. Ratchet, who didn't care which role he assumed in a tryst, had been perfectly willing to spread his legs and let Soundwave take charge.

Now, he realized that Soundwave had simply been spiking him because Soundwave wanted to please him. It might also be Soundwave's preference to be a spike mech, but Soundwave's confidence came from the knowledge he was making Ratchet happy.

Frenzy had been dead on, Ratchet decided, that they needed to merge. He wasn't quite sure how to bring the topic up, however, so instead he just ran a hand down Soundwave's chest, over his spark.

Soundwave caught that hand, and folded both of his around it. "_Tell _me what is wrong."

"You frustrate me." Ratchet rested his helm against Soundwave's chest.

"... apologies? Explain source of frustration."

"We are equals."

"Our sparks equal, yes. Soundwave has damage. Must compensate." Soundwave's shoulders were drooping, just a bit. "Truth."

"Merge with me," he blurted out.

Soundwave took a step back, releasing Ratchet. His eyes were bright in surprise behind his visor. At some point he'd retracted his blast mask, and now his mouth opened.

"Oh, don't look at me that way." Ratchet, feeling suddenly surly and defensive, snapped. "If you don't want to merge, just say so."

"Desire, yes." Soundwave looked a bit like Frenzy had earlier when he defensively folded his arms across his chest and turned a quarter turn away from Ratchet, and Ratchet almost snickered. Anyone who thought Soundwave was a drone had never seen him in private. The mech could be almost as emotive as Jazz when he let his guard down. "Ratchet, will get in trouble."

"I will _not _get in trouble. Pit, Prowl will probably think we can trust you more if we're fragging sparks. He trusts _me _and my opinions and there's one sure way to know a mech's true spark."

Soundwave gave him a sharp look.

"Well, and Prime is just a slagging romantic, but that's Prime for you. His idea of leadership is to warm-fuzzy everyone into submission. And yes, apparently my sex life is an appropriate topic of discussion at command meetings because it concerns _you_."

"Autobot leadership, definite differences, Decepticon command style."

Ratchet snorted a laugh, glad to hear Soundwave's humor returning. "Soundwave, seriously. I ... want you to know what I'm really feeling. Will you merge with me?"

Soundwave gave a jerky sort of nod. "I wish you to know me. Unsure, able to merge."

"Only one way to find out," Ratchet said, softly. "Some things are spark deep instinct."

And then they stood awkwardly before each other for one long moment before Ratchet snickered. "Primus, look at us. You'd think we were a pair of virgins."

His lover's deep laugh, resonant and unmodified by his blast mask, echoed Ratchet's. Then Soundwave stepped forward, pulling Ratchet into a kiss. The tall carrier's nimble fingers found all the right spots amid the wiring and cables of Ratchet's hip joints, and he revved his engine assertively. Ratchet sent a silent thank you to Primus that Soundwave was definitely no virgin, and _knew _how to please a lover.

Soundwave pushed him towards the berth, but turned at the last moment so he sat down on the edge of it. The carrier slid backwards across the resilient surface, pulling Ratchet by the hand with him.

"In your lap?" Ratchet asked.

Soundwave nodded once. "Easiest. You are shorter. Fairwinds, same problem. My chest, cannot take significant weight when opened. Many systems must move aside. Some may be damaged."

He should have anticipated that. Soundwave had the complicated systems of his symbiont docks in front of his spark, and the size of the docks meant his gestation chamber was also pushed upwards, in front of his spark. That odd design was why Soundwave had survived a blast that would have destroyed any other mech.

And then he forgot all about the technical side of matters when he knelt astride Soundwave's lap and he felt the heat and vibration of the Soundwave's systems against his interface panel. Soundwave, helpfully, revved his power plant hard enough to send vibrations right to the core of Ratchet's tentative arousal. Heat _ignited _within his circuits as he felt the proximity of Soundwave's fields, and felt the touch of Soundwave's skilled hands on his frame.

Belatedly, he reciprocated by leaning in for a kiss. Soundwave returned it with gentle intimacy, lips tender against Ratchet's own. With any other lover, Ratchet would have been assertive, even aggressive. He'd merged before. He enjoyed it. He was enough of a hedonist to have _no _hesitations about merging with a willing partner, enthusiastically and often.

But this was Soundwave.

And Soundwave was different.

Soundwave pulled back and said quietly, "I love you."

"Yeah, I know." Ratchet lifted a hand up to caress Soundwave's cheek. "I know you do."

Soundwave was an attentive lover, eager to bring pleasure to his partner. Frenzy had once alluded to Soundwave being considered _cold _in the berth by Megatron, and Ratchet could only conclude that Megatron had either been an idiot or Soundwave had been at his most reserved and merely _dutiful_. Soundwave's gentle hands and tender touches ignited something in Ratchet's spark that he'd never felt before in his life. He couldn't put a name to the feeling, but it was something deeper than desire and more intimate than passion.

"I will show you." Soundwave's chest began to part. With all the mechanisms that needed to move aside, it took several long moments. Soundwave stroked Ratchet's chest at the same time, and belatedly, Ratchet remembered he needed to bare his own spark.

He felt suddenly insecure, uneasy. They'd seen into the essence of each other's being before, when he'd repaired Soundwave and had dropped all his firewalls in the process to gain Soundwave's trust. However, this was different. This would be far deeper, and far more intimate. Ratchet had taken many lovers before, but he'd also found things in merges that he didn't like about his partners ... and he'd had partners reject _him _during a merge, as well. While Ratchet had the self-confidence and ego to tell such (former) partners to go frag themselves if they found him unsuitable, those rejections had not been pleasant. They'd generally led to copious high grade consumption with Optimus and/or Jazz.

However, Ratchet didn't know what he would do if Soundwave rejected him. He'd never let himself love another like he did Soundwave. With dental plates gritted together, and more dread than desire, he opened his own spark. All the ways this could go very badly were suddenly at the forefront of his thoughts. There wasn't enough high grade in the Pit if he were rejected ...

Soundwave said quietly, "You do not desire this?"

"I'm slagging _scared_," Ratchet ground out. He saw no reason to hide that fact. Soundwave would sense it soon enough.

Comprehension lit in the crimson optics that Ratchet could just barely see through Soundwave's visor. Soundwave's HUD flickered briefly, as he composed a reply. "Scared of rejection?"

"Yeah. It's happened before."

Most lovers merged in the throes of passion. Ratchet knew there was no slagging way that he could summon any sort of desire right now. Soundwave, surprisingly, was running hot. Ratchet could feel the arousal in Soundwave's field and hear his fans humming eagerly. All Ratchet could think about was how many ways this was a terrible idea. He was sorry he'd suggested it, but there was no graceful way to back out.

Besides, he decided grimly, it would hurt less if Soundwave rejected him now than if he did after months or years of being lovers. Best get this over with, he decided. Soundwave might as well know the truth about the medic he'd placed on such a high pedestal.

Soundwave pressed a kiss to Ratchet's helm. "All will be fine. You are loved by me."

Ratchet might have been scared, but he was surprised by the eagerness his spark showed when the curling tendrils of their sparks' coronas came within contact. Sudden electric _feeling _surged through his frame, and a fierce desire to feel more of the mech whose consciousness had just brushed his. He'd merged, plenty of times, but had never reacted like this.

The carrier felt ... solid. He was calm, and sturdy, his emotions surprisingly steady. The first impression he had of Soundwave was of _power_, intoxicating and mesmerizing _power_. That strength of will, of intellect, of emotional solidity, was tempered by Soundwave's complete lack of desire to lead. He could _feel _the mech's desire to please his leaders, and little ambition for personal glory. Instinctively, he knew Soundwave's loyalty would be unshakeable, and his determination and drive to succeed at any task asked of him was unmatched.

He felt Soundwave sinking into Ratchet's own awareness. Soundwave's arms wrapped around Ratchet, holding him close, with strength like he never wanted to let go. Soundwave was basking in Ratchet's fiercely emotional authority. Soundwave might have stated they were equals, but he was incredibly attracted to Ratchet's dominating personality.

They fell deeper into the merge. It was as if they were two halves of a whole. Ratchet, who had merged with many lovers over his long life, had _never _felt a spark that complemented his like Soundwave's did. They were very different, but their strengths and weaknesses balanced each other out. More importantly, Soundwave just felt _right_. It wasn't with passion but with a clear mind that Ratchet decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this mech.

_Yes_, was Soundwave's wordless reply. He couldn't speak - he would never be able to speak, even in a bond - but the affirmative that answered Ratchet's desire was perfectly comprehensible.

A second awareness entered the merge. Though not physically present, Frenzy's bond with Soundwave was more than strong enough that the little mechling was aware of their activities. They had allowed the merge to deepen to the point that Ratchet could feel Frenzy's presence - fierce, loyal, and with a startling clarity to his thoughts and emotions that shone with the brilliance of a thousand stars. Frenzy was a force to be reckoned with, and Ratchet had never even suspected he would have such a strong spark.

Smugly, Frenzy said, _:Surprised ya.:_

_:Frenzy, I ... I want him.:_

_:I know. He knows. It's okay.:_

_:You're okay with this?:_

_:I can feel you too. This feels right.:_

Soundwave pulsed _love _across the merge, at both of them. With it came a sense of shock.

_:I don't think he expected you to love him back. I didn't either. Not like this. Or to ... to care about _me_.: _Frenzy sounded rattled. _:Ratchet, I ... I'm sorry for butting in, but I can feel what you feel for him, and I wanted to make sure me being part of your world isn't going to be an issue. Because, uh, you won't just be bonding with him, you'll be bonding with both of us.: _

_:You know, merges are really supposed to be private.:_

_:He's a carrier. I'm his symbiont. You need to understand what that means. You gotta be okay with that. You'd destroy him if you made him choose. What he feels for you is every bit as strong as what he feels for me, and he'd die for either of us. So don't make this final unless you're okay with me being part of your spark too.:_

Frenzy was fiercely protective. Ratchet could sense that. The little mechling would _die _for his master, and would do anything to protect him. He didn't even feel embarrassed to intrude. He felt _defiant_.

And the thing was, Ratchet had loved Soundwave before, with fond affection, but now he found he couldn't imagine a life without Soundwave in it. Soundwave filled a hole he'd never known existed in his spark. That hole would become a raw wound if he and Soundwave were parted now. Frenzy, and the bond that Soundwave and Frenzy shared, was part of Soundwave's identity. He honestly couldn't imagine his lover without his symbiont. The two had a relationship that transcended mere love, for all that it was purely platonic.

_Forever_, he murmured in his mind. Frenzy and all.

_Forever_, was Soundwave's unswerving, wordless, response.

The merge became a bond, which settled into place with ease as their sparks synced on a quantum level. _Now _Ratchet felt fiery desire, even as their sparks parted but their awareness of one another remained.

He felt Frenzy snicker in amusement. _:And you were scared he might reject you.:_

_:Scram, kid.:_

_:No problem. Have fun, boss!: _

Frenzy slammed up walls, blocking himself from the bond. Ratchet promptly forgot about him entirely as Soundwave's lips met his with desperate intensity. Ratchet pushed the carrier back, aggressively, even as Soundwave willingly relaxed onto the berth.

Their sparks parted, but an incredibly strong awareness of _Soundwave _remained. No words, as he had expected, but there were raw emotions and impressions of thoughts. Soundwave's trust in Ratchet was complete. There was no resistance as Ratchet pushed Soundwave's legs apart with his hands and nestled between his thighs.

This felt so _right_.

Soundwave surrendered all fear, and a lifetime of bad experiences. His interface panels slid open, baring his valve. _Desire _coursed through the bond, a desire for Ratchet to make love to him - to protect him, to show him affection and care and tenderness.

Ratchet stroked Soundwave's helm with his fingers. He could feel every last bit of tension had left Soundwave's frame. Total trust, and total acceptance, pulsed through the bond.

_I love you, _he thought, and though he knew Soundwave couldn't understand the words, he could feel the emotions.

Soundwave arched his hips upwards, inviting. He responded to Ratchet's tenderness with soft, intimate affection. He trusted Ratchet not to hurt him, and he relaxed into Ratchet's touch with only desire in his spark.

Ratchet's spike was the hardest it had ever been in his life. He pushed slowly, gently, into Soundwave's valve. As he did so, he continued to stroke Soundwave's face with his fingers. Oh, how he loved this mech.

Neither of them lasted long. Soundwave cried out in surprise and pleasure as he overloaded. Ratchet knew without asking that Soundwave had never climaxed from being spiked before. Gruff pride filled Ratchet's spark, even as he thrust hard twice more and then lost himself into the tight arms and the welcoming spark of his bondmate.

* * *

Much later, close to dawn, Ratchet woke. Soundwave was deep in recharge and Ratchet had spent the night with one arm thrown across Soundwave's chest and a leg over his knees. He could _feel _the warm thrum of Soundwave's spark in the bond with his own. Even asleep, Soundwave felt _happy_.

Frenzy, to his minor surprise, was curled up on Soundwave's chest, with his head on Ratchet's arm.

Frenzy was not asleep. The clear sense of Frenzy in the bond had faded a bit but was still there. He found he didn't mind. While his affection for Frenzy was strictly platonic, Frenzy's presence was bright, sharp and fierce. Ratchet knew he could trust the symbiont with everything that he was and all that he would ever be. They were family now, in a way few mecha could ever appreciate.

_:I was worried you'd be freaked out.: _Frenzy activated a comm line between them. Ratchet suspected that they _could _speak over the bond, but the effort of doing so would be great, and it would definitely wake Soundwave. Soundwave was oblivious to comm line communications due to his damage.

_:I like you, kid.: _He smiled at Frenzy.

_:Good thing.:_

_:I want him to be happy,: _Ratchet said, simply, _:But that's not why I like you. I guess this is sort've like a gestalt bond, between you and me.:_

_:Pretty close.:_

_:If you bond with Steeljaw, will I be able to sense him?: _Carriers were notoriously closed-mouth about the exact details of their bonds.

_:Maybe.: _Frenzy didn't bother denying how much he loved Steeljaw. Ratchet could sense it. _:As a distant presence, most likely. During peaks of emotion you might be able to pick up more. Your bond with me is secondary, and if I bond with him, it would be a tertiary bond for you. The exact amount you'd get from him would vary depending on your spark resonance, and how close _I _am with him. For what it's worth, the bond I have with Soundwave is extremely close. We're very resonant on a quantum level, and we've worked at it a long time. You're resonant with him too, and with me by extension. I didn't expect that, but it's nice. I'm tired of being alone in my head ... I hope you don't mind.:_

He didn't. He could block Frenzy out if he wanted, but the mechling's presence was surprisingly pleasant.

_:I was never part of a big clan, but from what Soundwave's told me in the past, most clans had huge webs of interconnected bonds. Soundwave was cast out before he was old enough to have bonded to anyone. When he bonded to Fairwinds, he just had Ravage and the birds and was courting a cyberscorpion named Clicker. Clicker died in the same crash that killed Fairwinds. For what it's worth, Fairwinds was never able to pick us up except as faint echoes.:_

_:They weren't as compatible?: _

Frenzy blinked his crimson optics and considered the question. _:Don't get me wrong, Fairwinds and Soundwave were deeply, deeply, in love, but on a quantum level your bond is much tighter with him than hers was. You guys match up well. It's probably why you fell for each other so fast, too.:_

_:Yeah, I never expected to bond to one of my _patients, _much less a 'con I just barely met.:_

_:He'd swear allegiance to Optimus in a sparkbeat. So would I. So don't call us Decepticons.:_

_:Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry, kid.: _He touched his fingers to Frenzy's chest where Frenzy's Decepticon sigil had once been.

_:You didn't think you'd ever bond, did you?:_

_:Everyone here on Earth is potentially my patient. It's a bit of a violation of medical ethics to take a patient as a lover, much less _bond _to someone.:_

_:Yeah, well, it's unfair to expect you to live your life like a celibate priest as punishment for being the CMO. However, is Prime going to be okay with this?:_

_:Yes, he will. It will also give the command staff reassurance that Soundwave can be trusted. However, it's probably best that the rest of the Autobots and the Decepticons don't know about our relationship yet.:_

_:No duh. Back to the no-bonding thing. You really didn't have any partners since you came to Earth?: _Frenzy was openly and unashamedly curious.

_:Since long before.: _He sighed across the comm line. _:Kid, I don't have the best track record with lovers.:_

_:And ...? There's more to it than that.:_

_:It would kill me if someone I loved ended up in my medbay, and I couldn't save them,: _he admitted.

_:You love Prime. Is that why ...?:_

_:Everyone loves Prime.:_

_:Slag, man. You do know now that I can feel when you're lying?:_

_:Partly, yes.: _He admitted the truth. _:I've loved Optimus for a long, long, time. But not the way I love Soundwave. I've known Optimus since he was an Academy student. He helped on my senatorial campaign as an intern. When the senate was assassinated and I survived only because I had an emergency at the clinic that day, he helped me pick the pieces of my life up. He's one of the best friends I've ever had, and my oldest friend, and yes, there was a period in my life where I wished it could be more.:_

_:... but?:_

_:But he said no the one time I brought the subject up.: _

_:Oh. I'm sorry. He's an idiot, then.:_

_:He told me he loved me as a brother, not as a lover. I just wasn't his type. It hurt at the time, but he's the only family I've got beside you two. He loves me in a purely platonic sense, and after a time, I came to see him the same way.:_

_:Hmph. I still say he's a fool.:_

_:Well, I wouldn't have found your master if he'd seen me differently.:_

_:Not necessarily. Carriers can be polyamorous.: _Frenzy smirked. _:It's pretty common among the larger clans.: _

_:Optimus is definitely a one-bot mech. As am I, I think.:_

_:Has the Prime ever had anyone in his life besides Elita? We were always looking for indications he had a lover, but nothing turned up. Rumble didn't think he had anyone, but I always wondered if he was just being discrete.:_

_:No, and he never consummated his love with Elita.:_

_:He's a ...?!:_

_:Indeed. It's not that unusual for Primes to remain celibate. Optimus isn't sworn to celibacy, but he's very wary of taking a casual lover for any number of reasons. I'm sure you could figure them out if you thought about it.:_

_:You'd probably do something terrible to me if I gossiped about that.:_

_:It's known by the command staff, and all the medical staff and his closer friends. We tease him, sometimes, about it. He's just a mech, Frenzy - Optimus has one of the purest sparks I've ever known, but he's mortal.: _Ratchet smiled faintly.

_:Primus.: _Frenzy snickered. _:No, I won't blab. Spymaster for my Boss, remember? I know when to keep my trap shut. Though - what is his type?:_

_:The big guy's got a thing for wings.:_

_:So the flirting with Starscream wasn't all flirting?: _Frenzy's eyes widened.

Ratchet laughed across the comm link. _:I wasn't in the meeting you're talking about, but I suspect that was just Optimus being charismatic. Quite honestly, if any mech is ever going to capture his spark, it will be Skyfire.:_

_:Oooooh ...: _Frenzy's optics lit up in appreciation of good gossip.

_:Though the problem is, I'm not sure either of them has the spinal struts to make the first move..:_

_:Maybe we could get them drunk and then lock them in a closet together.:_

_:I'm not sure there's a closet on the ship where they'd both fit, but we could lock them up together in Skyfire's lab ...: _Ratchet was joking, and Frenzy's response of giggling mental glee made him smile.

Frenzy then rested his head on Ratchet's hand again. _:Docbot, you're way more cool than I ever imagined for an old 'bot.:_

_:Thanks,: _Ratchet said, a bit dryly. He didn't appreciate being called _old_.

_:Well, you called me a cheerleader.:_

At that moment Soundwave stirred. His frame clicked and whirred as systems booted up and his optics lit. He lifted one hand to touch Frenzy, and found Ratchet's fingers in the process. They laced fingers together.

Frenzy promptly wriggled out from under their hands. "Gonna go see if engineering needs my help. Yell if you need me."

After the little symbiont had hurried out of the room, Ratchet let himself laugh. "You know, Frenzy's nothing like what I expected. I think the little scraplet and I are going to be very good friends."

"Frenzy, loved."

"By both of us," Ratchet assured him. "He's the adopted son I didn't want and never knew I needed."

"Frenzy ... not wanted?" Ratchet could feel sudden alarm and insecurity fill Soundwave's spark. Soundwave had clearly misunderstood Ratchet's words.

"Sarcasm, lover." Ratchet assured him. "I'm happy."

"I am happy," Soundwave agreed.

Ratchet could feel the truth in this. There were dark shadows in his spark, areas of profound grief and loss, some very ancient and others raw and new. However, Soundwave was not a mech who dwelt on the past and he was content with his new life, and optimistic about his future. Life, as the humans said, went on.

Soundwave rolled over onto his side, facing Ratchet. Ratchet willingly let the larger mech pull him into a tender embrace that he would have tolerated from no one else. Soundwave explained in a low murmur, "Ratchet, beloved. You, return love. You, love Frenzy. Frenzy, will be happy. Frenzy, found suitable partner. Life, has purpose. Honest work. Optimus Prime, my leader. Life will be good, here."

Ratchet pictured a future in it with Soundwave at his side. Soundwave, with his quiet competence, stubborn determination to better himself, and that dry, understated sense of humor. Soundwave, who would be completely happy living the rest of his life complementing Ratchet's skills rather than competing with him. Soundwave, who he _loved _more than he'd ever thought possible, and who returned his love with deep, firm, confident conviction.

"Everything's going to work out." Ratchet traced a finger down Soundwave's chest.

He had never expected to bond. Now he had found his perfect bondmate, as well as a _family _in the form of Frenzy. He had never realized how alone he was, even surrounded by friends, until now.

"Believe truth Ratchet speaks," Soundwave caught Ratchet's fingers and kissed them. "Future, will be good."

For a long moment, they just lay like that, limbs and fingers intertwined. Ratchet could feel the peace and trust in Soundwave's spark, and the quiet faith that the future would be good.

"Frenzy, happy," Soundwave said, finally.

"Me too." Ratchet admitted. "He's a good kid. I'm glad to call him family."

Soundwave smile was radiant.

"What about Killaglitch?" Ratchet asked.

"Soundwave, will court, with Ratchet, Frenzy, approval."

"Yeah, you've got mine. He's important to you." Ratchet pressed a kiss to Soundwave's fingers. "The more the merrier. That's the carrier way, yes?"

"Partial truth. All must fit. Ratchet, Frenzy, must approve." Soundwave pressed a kiss to Ratchet's helm. "It is time to arise, correct?"

"Yeah, work beckons." Ratchet wished, deeply, that he had the luxury of taking several orns to just simply lose himself in the siren call of Soundwave's spark. However, they both had duties and responsibilities - and their shared sense of duty was one of the reasons they were so very compatible. There would be no resentment from Soundwave for Ratchet's responsibilities; indeed, Soundwave would be dismayed if Ratchet neglected his job in favor of his desire to indulge Soundwave. _And _Soundwave would resent it if Ratchet demanded time from him when he had duties of his own to attend to.

They were an incredibly good match, Ratchet thought, as he rose and then automatically offered Soundwave a hand up. He reached for Soundwave's cane, which was leaning against the wall, and gave it to the mech, then said, "I need to talk to Prime about this. I believe you had a session with Prowl this morning to discuss the dossiers of the 'cons on Starscream's side. Let me know if you need anything."

"Likewise." Soundwave bent down to press a kiss to Ratchet's cheek. With no trace of self consciousness, he added, "You are beloved, Ratchet."

"Ahem. Well. I get that. And likewise."

Soundwave's smile was gentle and knowing. "Ratchet, loves."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

* * *

Optimus looked up from his desk, then did a clear double take as Ratchet entered his office. His oldest friend was moving with a bounce in his stride that Optimus hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Good morning," he said, smiling in reaction to Ratchet's obvious good mood.

"You're going to kill me," Ratchet predicted, but his gloomy prediction was spoiled by the smile that played around his lipplates.

Optimus feigned nonchalance. "You merged with Soundwave and you liked what you saw?"

"A bit much." Ratchet propped his hip against the edge of Optimus's desk. "Let's just say Soundwave's loyalty will never be in question as long as _mine _isn't."

"I take it congratulations are in order, then," Optimus rose from his desk.

"Oh, Primus, here comes the hug ..." Ratchet feigned indignation as Optimus wrapped him in a brotherly embrace. "Yes, yes, yes ... well! Stop it, you're going to clog my intakes with lint from the warm fuzzies!"

Optimus, laughing, let Ratchet loose. "How does it feel?"

"Slagging wonderful." Ratchet admitted, grinning. "How much trouble am I in?"

"I assume you will consider your bond classified for now," Optimus said, seriously. "Soundwave would be an easy target."

"Probably not as much as you'd expect." Ratchet had no desire to see Soundwave in combat, but the carrier was a wily old soldier who was already figuring out ways to work around his physical limitations. He wasn't as vulnerable as most mecha would assume.

"Nonethless, I would prefer your status not be widely known, to protect you and Soundwave both. However, there _was _concern about Soundwave's loyalty, and this eliminates that worry. Prowl and Jazz will be pleased. On a personal level, you know that I am delighted for you."

"Yeah," Ratchet said, a little uncomfortably. "Optimus, I never thought I'd have this. And if I did, I never thought it would be with someone whose first instinct is to _defer _to me. But ... but both of us are happy."

"He may be beta coded," Optimus said, with a small, amused smile, "but I have a feeling he is no meek, submissive servant."

"No." Ratchet grunted. "He's _strong_."

"My friend," Optimus said, growing serious, and a little sad. "I wish we could celebrate this occasion as it deserves. It pains me to ask you to be discrete. However, you have my full congratulations and joy that you have found happiness. I believe that Soundwave is a good mech, and Primus willing, you will enjoy a very long life together."

"Thanks, Prime," he said, voice rough with emotion he tried and failed to hide.

* * *

Soundwave settled into the chair in his office. He was unused to having furniture that actually fit his tall frame well, but Grapple had come up with a chair that was a perfect fit and an unaccustomed luxury.

The desk was at exactly the right height, and wrapped around him in a "U" shape. He had a vid screen as big as Prime's, as well as the same sound system. When he turned the sound system on, he discovered some thorough and thoughtful person had translated the operating system into English. He was able to quickly find and play one of his favorite pre-war Vosian ballads.

Frenzy had a desk on a shelf on the wall, between the vid screen and sound system. Frenzy had his own monitor, as well as a stack of human-style literal paperwork waiting for him. Soundwave glanced at it, and realized that Prime had put Frenzy on the task of sourcing human-made supplies and raw materials that both the allied Decepticon forces and the Autobots needed. Frenzy's desk had an internet connection, a fax machine, and a human sized phone. His symbiont, always social, was enjoying the work.

When he logged into his own terminal, it displayed a queue of messages sent via simple email. Soundwave, remembering Grapple's sour attitude, quickly sent him a thank you note. The architect clearly felt he was under-appreciated and his skills often overlooked. Soundwave wanted to make sure that Grapple knew that at least _one _mech had noticed his talents. That task done, he began to read his email.

Prowl wanted a list of the Decepticons that Starscream knew were on earth, and which faction they'd sided with - he'd cc'd Soundwave.

Grapple wanted a breakdown of the Nemesis's structural issues and a list of supplies needed for repairs, a request he had cc'd to both Starscream and Wheeljack. Starscream had responded to that request by forwarding it to the Constructicons, adding to the Constructicons, "I don't care which faction you decide to ally with, just answer his questions. We need to make the Nemesis flight worthy again and _neither _side will benefit if it rusts to pieces under our feet."

Jazz had sent him notification that both his and Frenzy's security clearance had been drastically bumped up; they now had almost unlimited security access. However, for the time being, Red Alert would be monitoring what they accessed to make sure it was need-to-know. Jazz added, to both he and Frenzy, "Don't abuse it. Also, hurt Ratchet and you _will _regret it."

Frenzy had already replied, in Cybertronian. Soundwave couldn't read the glyphs and suspected he wasn't supposed to, but he knew instinctively that Frenzy's reply to Jazz had been (A) rude and (B) a reminder that he'd never had a problem accessing classified information, with or without a security clearance.

Jazz replied back in English, "Yes, but it means you can sparkfrag Jaws and not get him in trouble, so be nice."

Frenzy had shot back a reply that was all glyphs, and likely profane. Soundwave, reasonably sure that Jazz and Frenzy were a match made in the Well (or possibly the Pit, but in either case, a perfect match) simply sipped his morning energon.

"Good morning," Steeljaw said, from Soundwave's open office door. The cat padded through it, then easily leaped up onto Soundwave's desk. "I heard the news from Frenzy. Congratulations."

"News, classified."

"Yeah, I figured. I won't tell anyone. You and Ratchet made Frenzy really happy, you know."

Soundwave absently reached out to stroke Steeljaw's head. "Many people, happy."

"Including you." Steeljaw rested his head against Soundwave's fingers briefly. "I've got to report for my shift, but I just wanted to stop in and tell you how happy I am for you."

After Steeljaw had left, Soundwave turned his focus to the queue of messages and requests. Most were very mundane; it seemed the bulk of his job would be administrative. This suited him perfectly well. After a quick check with Prime on the exact parameters of his authority, he authorized the transfer of forty-five standard cubes of solar energon to Starscream, along with four tons of of armor grade duryllium and an assortment of medical supplies.

Grapple protested, in an all-caps email that Soundwave struggled to decipher. He relied on visual recognition of words, and the capitalization of every letter rendered the words unrecognizable. A few minutes after Grapple's angry email, Ratchet sent him a "translation" with proper capitalization - and CC'd him on a reprimanding email to Grapple, which reminded him both of Soundwave's limitations _and _Soundwave's new authority as the point of contact between Decepticons and Autobots.

A few moments after that, Ratchet appeared in his doorway. Soundwave, who felt like he'd gotten very little done, reacted with a flare of irritation at the interruption. Ratchet clearly _felt _the emotion, because Soundwave caught a very strong response from his new bondmate - concern, annoyance, and a trace of uncertainty at the perceived rejection, which quickly flared into just a tiny bit of anger.

"I can come back later," Ratchet grunted, but he sounded hurt.

Soundwave, far more experienced with bonds than Ratchet, rose, walked past Ratchet, crossed the room, and shut and locked the door with a swipe of his fingers over the touch-sensitive panel. _Nothing _was more important than soothing Ratchet's sudden upset.

"Not upset at your presence," Soundwave explained. "Bonds show ... emotion ... but not always context. Ratchet, _always _welcome, _always _loved. Work, slow, due to my damage. Reaction, simple frustration at any delay. Not a rejection of you."

Ratchet huffed. "I'm not hurt. I'm a big bot. I've got work to do too."

Soundwave caught Ratchet's arm, bent over, and kissed him gently on his helm. "Not rejecting you. Never. Soundwave, however, mortal. Irritation at interruption, normal. Even if cause of interruption is bondmate."

"I imagine I'll throw a few emotions your way you'd rather not feel," Ratchet allowed, finally, with another huff. "It's just so new. I can _feel _you. Constantly."

"Good or bad?" Soundwave could only feel confusion coming from Ratchet. He asked the question in an attempt to get Ratchet to clarify his own feelings.

"Different." Ratchet rested his helm against Soundwave's shoulder. "This is going to take some getting used to. I've always been alone in my head."

Soundwave admitted, "I was not twenty vorns, bonded with Ravage."

Ratchet jerked his head back, looking up at Soundwave's visored features. "I heard Killa say something about that. You were a minor?"

"Almost adult. Close enough." Soundwave felt the outraged shock spreading through Ratchet's spark, and smiled. He let Ratchet feel his amusement; _everyone _reacted that way, even other carriers, but Soundwave had never regretted his bond with the ancient cybercat. "It was a good bonding. You, I, the same. Good bonding. We will be fine."

Ratchet settled. "You were happy with him."

"Affirmative. Very. Will be happy with Ratchet, also."

"Yeah." Ratchet agreed. "How much work do you have to do?"

"Enough administrative work busy all day."

"Figures. My med bay's full of Decepticon casualties."

"Contact me, if assistance needed."

"No, I want you to get _your _work done on time." Ratchet looked up at him, normally hard optics softening. "We will be together tonight."

Soundwave found himself busy the entire day, and welcomed the work - despite a quiet longing to curl into his new bondmate's arms and just luxuriate in the presence of that strong, assertive spark that was now a part of his very being.

However, he was being useful, and that was important too.

The Decepticons, it turned out, still feared him. His status as _damaged _wasn't yet widely known among the troops, and all it took was his image on a vid screen and Frenzy's accurate imitation of his Cybertronian voice, and Starscream's troops were instantly on their best behavior.

Frenzy, out of sight of the vid screen's pickup, finished a terse order to Six Shot to submit to repairs with Ratchet, then grinned when the screen went blank. "Daaayum. I want to hack the med bay's security feed. That's gonna be like the immovable object meets the unstoppable force."

Unconcerned, Soundwave said, "Six Shot, will behave."

"He's not loyal to Starscream," Frenzy fidgeted a bit at his desk. "He just hates Astrotrain more."

"Six Shot, not stupid. Enjoys fighting. Enjoys winning, more. Has injuries. Will not damage only medic qualified to work on him."

"True."

"Prime, told him already that he will be outcast, no fuel, no weapons, no _repairs_, if he causes any trouble with Autobots. Six Shot, understands parameters surrounding repairs. Also, respects Prime."

"That's true."

Soundwave added, "Ratchet, able to defend self."

"That's _also _true. How many times did we try to assassinate him?"

"Nine." Soundwave recalled, with no trace of guilt. It had been war, after all. What had happened then had no bearing on now. Also, Ratchet was quite smugly proud of his ability to survive attempts on his life. Six Shot had _been _the assassin on one of those attempts, and Ratchet had managed to destroy Six Shot's t-cog with an incredibly accurate strike with a laser scalpel. Six Shot had been lucky to survive that encounter, and viewed Ratchet with an extremely healthy degree of respect.

"Still want surveillance video."

Soundwave said, firmly, "Other tasks, more important. Hacking video, not allowed."

"Yeah, yeah." Frenzy turned to his pile of paperwork. He scowled. "Hook's asking for a plasma welder. For the Nemesis."

"Forward request, Wheeljack. Welding equipment on Nemesis, inferior, poor condition. Fair request."

"You know the 'Cons could take all this stuff we're giving them and then turn against us."

"Starscream, will not." Soundwave was confident of that. "Starscream, desires power. Greatest power at Prime's side."

"Think the 'structicons will go back to Starscream?"

"Prime has asked them to return to the Nemesis. Needed more, Nemesis than Ark. Starscream, agreed, with assurances of safety, better quarters, wages in US dollars."

"Heh. He bribed 'em back."

"Affirmative." Soundwave reached out absently to stroke Frenzy's head. It felt so _good _to sit and work with his symbiont.

A knock sounded at the door, at barely knee height to the tall carrier. Frenzy, who'd apparently received a comm, said, "It's Killa."

Frenzy opened the door with a quick transmission and the taller mechling padded in. "Hey, Prime said to see if you two need help."

Soundwave reached down and picked Killaglitch up. His old friend nestled trustingly into his lap in a way that Frenzy never would have considered. It had been so many eons, yet he still remembered being a child and curling up, alone and scared, with a much younger Killa. "Frenzy, could use assistance with inventory and verification of today's deliveries from human vendors. Once completed, shift done."

Killaglitch leaned back against Soundwave's solid chassis for a moment, relaxing. "Damn, I've missed you, big guy. - Hey, Bumblebee and Daniel Witwicky have invited me into town for a movie. Frenzy, maybe you and that cybercat of yours could come along?"

Frenzy hesitated. "I don't know, Killa."

"Bee and Daniel seem friendly enough." Killaglitch, missing eons of context, said with some confusion.

"To _you_." Frenzy frowned at his monitor. "I tried to kill Daniel once."

"What? Why!?" Killaglitch demanded, shocked.

"War," Soundwave said, simply. He boosted Killaglitch up onto the edge of his desk and said seriously, "Many things, difficult. Including friendships between factions."

"I _like _Daniel." Killaglitch sighed. "I didn't realize ..." he trailed off.

"I like him too," Frenzy admitted, in a small voice. "Maybe ... maybe if I asked his mom? If she okay'd it? And if Steeljaw and Bee are along. Maybe she'd be okay with it."

"Permission, granted." Soundwave nodded. Once, not too long ago, Frenzy would have simply done as he wished, with a snicker and a sneer at anyone who stood in his way. He'd changed so much in such a short period of time.

"That's a good idea, though the human is legally an adult." Killaglitch said. "He said he was fine with you coming."

"I'll go talk to her now," Frenzy said, to Soundwave, then added to Killaglitch, "Yeah, Daniel's an adult, but have you _met _his mom? She's kinda cool with me but, umm ... yeah, I want to talk to her first."

* * *

Carly Witwicky peered through a jeweler's loupe at a badly charred tangle of circuitry. She found herself missing Soundwave's infinite patience - fixing mangled circuits had been the sort of task they'd assigned to him before Prime had drafted him for administrative work. "Ratch, you think I could swap with Soundwave? I'll be happy to push paperwork all day if it means I don't need to repair even _one _more optic array ..."

Ratchet's grunt of amusement made her smile back. Ratchet had been hunched over his tool bench for most of the afternoon, rebuilding Six Shot's transformation circuits. Personally, she thought they should just _leave _the menacing monster stuck in quadrupedal mode for the rest of his existence, but Prime had insisted they repair him fully. He'd tangled with most of Astrotrain's forces, and had come away with fried circuits and his face plates half melted away. Apparently, he'd done far worse to the rebels.

Six Shot lay on his chest on a berth, staring flatly at Ratchet with his one functioning optic.

The door slid open. Six Shot's head jerked swiftly in the direction of the door, and he half rose. His capacitors whined to life as battle routines fired.

"Hey, Sixer, it's just me." Frenzy padded through. He gave the six changer a _very _nervous smile.

"The traitor."

"Annnnnd ... look who's taking up a berth in the Autobot med bay." Frenzy shot back, though Carly noted he didn't do so until he was standing in Ratchet's literal shadow.

"Only until I can slay those who betrayed Megatron." Carly wondered if that was veiled threat at Frenzy.

If it was, however, it seemed to go over Frenzy's head. The little symbiont said cheerfully, "Not like you to get injured. What'd you do, have a bad day?"

"Astrotrain used a thermonuclear device in lunar orbit." Ratchet soldered a nerve wire into place. "There's not a lot that will damage a six changer, but that did it."

"Still managed to get back under my own power." Six Shot snapped.

"Umm, yeah." Frenzy regarded Six Shot for a long moment. "Anyway, I'm sure the docbot will have you up and killing things real soon now."

"That I will." Ratchet grunted. "Six Shot's scaring all my _usual _customers away."

"I'm good at that." Six Shot smirked.

"Something I can do for you, kid?" Ratchet glanced down at Frenzy. "Otherwise, I can put you to work ..."

"No, no, my shift's over!" Frenzy held his hands up defensively. "Actually, I just wanna talk to Carly so she doesn't go all mama-bear on me."

Carly, suspiciously, said, "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Frenzy exclaimed defensively. "And I want to _keep _it nothing. Slag it, woman, I'm on your side now!"

Six Shot rumbled on his berth.

Ratchet growled something threatening, but not quite fully audible.

The six changer subsided, with a low glower at the medic.

"What?" Carly said.

"Just ... well, I guess Daniel'n Bee n' Killaglitch are going to the movies, and they asked if me'n Steeljaw wanted to come. And before I said yes I wanted to make sure it was okay with _you_. Because I know you don't have any reason to trust me, and I didn't want you to worry, because I won't hurt your son, and ..."

She stared at the symbiont. He was a few inches taller than she was, but he seemed smaller somehow, in this moment. His optics were fiercely bright and his expression intensely earnest. However, as she looked at him, he crossed his arms over his chest and halfway turned away. "Or not. I unnnerstand if ya don't trust me yet. I got a lot of proving to do ... but I promise, I just want to be friends with everyone. I'm tired of fighting. And I like your son. He's cool. Pit, I even like _you_, woman."

Ratchet said softly, "He's telling the truth, Carly. He just wants to be friends. And ... he needs friends."

"I think my brain is going to explode."

"Do not get brain matter on my plating," Sixshot said, recoiling.

They ignored him.

Carly slipped off her stool and approached the symbiont. Frenzy looked like he wanted to run away, but he held his ground. At close range, she could hear his capacitors whining with stress. His jaw was tense.

"I can't speak for everyone," Carly said, with a smile, "but I can say for me, welcome to the team, Frenzy. C'mere."

Frenzy _squawked _when she hugged him, a startled blat of static. He smelled of solvent and soap, the faint tang of energon, hot metal, and grease. He was rigid for the first second, then to her surprise, melted and hugged her back. His optics were a new kind of bright when he stepped back. "Umm. Thank you."

"Uh-huh. Steeljaw's been my friend since I was a teenager. Any friend of his is a friend of mine." She swallowed down her nervousness at the thought of _this _friend hanging out with her precious son. Between Steeljaw and Bee, Frenzy wouldn't stand a chance of hurting Daniel. She was actually a little more worried about Killaglitch, who was a total unknown factor, than Frenzy. Frenzy had been nothing but polite and (relatively) respectful since his arrival at the Ark.

Six Shot made a disgusted noise, and was completely ignored.

"Th-thank you, Mrs. Witwicky." Frenzy rested a hand on her arm. "I ... _thank _you for trusting me."

"Mmhmm. Now scram, before Six Shot's fuel lines get all plugged up from the sweetness of the moment." She gave him a little shove in the direction of the door.

He saluted her then headed out at a trot. As soon as the doors slid shut, Ratchet said, "Carly, thank you. Frenzy won't disappoint you."

Six Shot's growl of revulsion was a little louder.

Hands on her hips, Carly addressed the six changer. "You know, you _too _could have friends like that. All it would take would be a complete personality transplant ..."

Six Shot leveled a one-eyed look at her. "Are you aware how quickly I could flatten you into grease on the floor?"

In _exactly _the same tone of voice, Ratchet said, "Are you aware Starscream gave me your kill codes?"

Carly waved her hand dismissively. "He doesn't scare me. He's repulsed by squishies. He wouldn't flatten me, he'd get blood on his armor."

Ratchet snorted. "Actually, I think he's made of sterner stuff than most 'cons. You should meet his _friends_. Which he does have, by the way."

Six Shot gave the medic a sharp look.

"What? I've got the security clearance to read your file." Ratchet smirked at him.

Six Shot grunted again and put his head down on his paws, clearly lacking any desire for further discussion.

* * *

A few days later, Soundwave entered his office to find that Grapple and Killaglitch were constructing a second desk. Soundwave regarded them for a moment - Grapple was ignoring him, and Killa greeted him with a bright and cheery wave.

"Query: Objective of second desk?"

"Oh, aren't you a fountain of good manners." Grapple didn't even look at him. "Not _good morning. _Not _thank you for building me a chair that fits perfectly. _Not even _how are you doing_. Just, 'What are you doing?'"

Killaglitch rolled his optics behind Grapple's back, and also shrugged. Clearly, he didn't know what was up.

"Query remains," Soundwave snapped, irritated at the surly architect. "Answer please."

"Well, if you _must _know, it's Prowl's orders. Apparently," this was said with a sneer, "you don't rate an office all your own."

Soundwave considered sending a text message to Prowl, but it was early, and the officer was not on duty yet. Technically, neither was Soundwave, but he had a pitload of administrative paperwork to wade through before a meeting in the afternoon with Thundercracker (who was settling into a role as Starscream's de facto second in command), Jazz, Wheeljack, and the Constructicons.

He simply said, "Soundwave, retrieving energon. Have you fueled yet?"

"Like I'd take fuel from _you_," Grapple snapped.

"Oh, chill, man." Steeljaw padded through the open doorway. "If Soundwave wanted you dead, I'm sure he could figure out half a dozen ways less traceable than poisoning your energon. Decepticon spymaster, remember?"

Killaglich, who had been staring in open-mouthed shock at Grapple, now snickered.

"Soundwave, does not desire Grapple dead," Soundwave said, stiffly.

Steeljaw affectionately stropped the length of his body against Soundwave's calf as he passed, a full-body caress of support. The cybercat said, as he leaped effortlessly onto Soundwave's desk, "Really? Because I think every Autobot on earth has wanted to kill Grapple at one point or another. Don't let him get to you, Soundwave. - And if you're going to the rec, I'll take some plain midgrade. I haven't fueled yet."

"Me too," Killaglitch said, after a long stare at the architect who was his assigned supervisor. His optics were narrowed with obvious dislike.

Soundwave touched Killaglitch on the arm, drawing his attention. He texted the symbiont's comm unit with the brief message, _"No trouble with Grapple, please."_

Killaglitch gave him a short nod of acknowledgement, but the symbiont's jaw was still tight with anger. Soundwave patted him on the back, stroked Steeljaw's head once without a second thought, and then went to get the energon.

The halls were almost empty as the graveyard shift hadn't yet changed over to morning. When he reached the rec room, he walked across it with the energon dispenser as his sole goal. The rec was empty aside from a gaggle of mecha fueling rapidly before an early patrol. They were all minibots, and not, he thought, a threat. He ignored them.

He was _tired_, but it was honest exhaustion that came from a necessary lack of recharge. He was pleased that the Autobots were putting him to work. It felt so good to be useful, and to make a difference.

Last night he had joined a command-staff meeting with Prime, the Autobot ranking officers, and Starscream. The meeting had run very late, and neither he nor Ratchet had possessed the energy to do more than collapse as soon as they'd gotten to their quarters. Still, he'd slipped into recharge with a deep sense of contentment in his spark, while spooned around Ratchet.

He filled two cubes of energon - one for himself and one for Killa, Steeljaw, and Frenzy to share - and turned back to the door. Momentarily, he was focused entirely on staying upright with his cane in one hand and two stacked cubes of energon balanced on the palm of the other, and he focused his vision on his HUD's attitude displays. Though it appeared to outsiders that his coordination had improved, his vertigo was still very bad. It took concentration to move with any degree of grace.

Flame red and orange filled his visor's vision. He blinked, shifting his focus from the HUD to the mech standing directly in front of him. When the identity of the Autobot registered, he tensed - and dropped the energon cubes. The Autobot soldier grabbed both cubes before they could hit the floor, one in each hand, and Soundwave lifted his cane defensively at the sudden movement.

Wide blue optics stared up at him. Hot Rod clutched at the cubes, nearly as off-balance as Soundwave. The mech's blue eyes shifted to the cane and he remained frozen in alarm. Their last encounter had _not _gone well, and Soundwave wasn't about to let the Autobot have a second chance at him.

"I would probably deserve it if you hit me with that thing." Hot Rod - slowly - stood up. "Uh, how much damage can you do with a piece of angle iron, anyway?"

"Considerable," Soundwave assured the young soldier. Hot Rod's armor was flashy but relatively thin, and Soundwave had already assessed his weak points.

Hot Rod subspaced the cubes, and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll bet. Look, I didn't mean to startle you. Prowl said I'm supposed to help you out. Like, until he says otherwise. I'm supposed to be your assistant, chauffeur, bodyguard, whatever. Didn't he say anything to you?"

"No." And that, Soundwave suspected, was probably deliberate. The Autobot officers seemed to have a policy of trust-but-verify when it came to him and Frenzy. He was almost certainly being watched on the monitors by Prowl or Jazz, and his actions in this encounter dissected and discussed. They were still trying to verify he wasn't evil, and unexpectedly throwing him together with a potentially hostile Autobot was exactly like something Jazz would think up.

Impatiently, he sent a quick text message to Prowl. It was still early, but the tactician was known for rising early and working late. _"Query: Hot Rod assigned as assistant?"_

"_Affirmative. And thank you for not hitting him." _Prowl's response was so swift it was clear he had not been recharging.

"_You are welcome." _He turned his attention back to Hot Rod, who was studying him suspiciously - it had taken a few moments to exchange texts with Prowl.

"You're not glitching, are you?" Hot Rod said. Apparently, his silence had stretched on _too _long.

"No. Methods of communication, very slow. Verifying orders with Prowl. Obtain cube for yourself." He gestured at the dispenser.

"Are you going to drink two by yourself?" Hot Rod asked, curiously.

"One is for symbionts."

"Oh." Hot Rod subspaced the third cube after quickly filling it. "Why didn't ya send them to get your fuel? Aren't they your servants?"

"Frenzy, my bonded symbiont. _Not _servant." He corrected, with a strictly internal sigh. "Frenzy, busy at moment with Skyfire. Steeljaw, Blaster's symbiont. Assisting me with communication difficulties and with technical issues with Decepticon housing. Steeljaw, was architect on Cybertron long ago. Killaglitch, unattached symbiont. _Friend_. Assigned to Grapple. Killa is building extra desk in my office this morning."

And now he knew _why _Grapple had come by to add another desk to his office. There was room for it, but the surly mech had simply informed him it was Prowl's orders when he'd asked why they were adding a desk. Grapple had certainly known who the desk was for, as he would have needed Hot Rod's dimensions to make it ergonomically correct. The mech _could _have mentioned that sometime between the command meeting last night and this morning, Prowl had decided he needed an assistant.

"Oh."

"Come." Soundwave headed for his office. Now that he was headed in a straight line, he was easily able to move at a pace that kept Hot Rod hurrying to keep up. The mech wasn't a minibot, but he was a few feet shorter than Ratchet.

He sent a message to Prowl, suspicious that the mech was _still _awake, rather than rising early. _:Thank you for assistant. You recharge any?:_

Prowl's response was, _:Recharge is for the weak.:_

_:I, tell Ratchet you said that.:_ Ratchet grumbled about Prowl's recharge habits on a regular basis.

_:You, my friend, are scary.:_

_:This, known.:_

_:And for the record, Jazz is covering for me while I catch some recharge this morning. The situation's so chaotic that one of us needs to be awake at all times.:_

He was finding that Prowl's sense of humor was compatible with his own. He smiled briefly behind his mask. He'd had very few friends in his life, but it seemed like the tactician might become one.

"Umm." Hot Rod said, after they left the rec and descended the ramp down into the fortified tunnels. "You're too quiet! You're not still mad at me about the thing that happened between us, right? Prowl said you'd be okay and he wants me to work with you as punishment because I screwed up."

"Harm Frenzy," Soundwave assured him, "I will harm you."

"Uh, right. You go all Mama Bear if anyone touches your symbionts. Got that. _Really _got that. But you gonna be okay with me?"

"My actions, dependent on your behavior." Soundwave said, then decided he should probably give the kid a break. "I am capable of forgiveness. I do not forget."

"Ah, okay. Fair enough." Hot Rod fell silent for a brief moment, but the quiet didn't last. "So, umm, is it true what they're saying? That you and the doc are an item?"

"Ratchet and I are lovers, yes." They had decided they couldn't hide their affection for one another, but their status as bondmates _was _classified information.

"Wow. That's ... wow."

"This surprises you, why?"

"I guess ... it's _Ratchet_. He's like, um, _scary_."

"Yes," Soundwave agreed. "He is skilled. Nine assassination attempts planned by myself. He survived all. I am grateful for that. Also, impressed."

"I kinda meant his temper."

"I am not afraid of his temper."

"He _throws _things."

"Soundwave, possesses sturdy armor."

Hot Rod barked a surprised laugh, then sobered and peered at Soundwave. "Was that meant to be a joke? Because that sure sounded like a joke."

Soundwave, who _had _been joking, replied, "Soundwave, not known for a sense of humor."

"Damn. And here I thought you might actually be cool."

"Soundwave's normal average core temperature averages 2.5 degrees Fahrenheit below typical Cybetronian average due to small power plant to size ratio," he said.

"Umm, actually I meant ..." Hot Rod stopped, and stared suspiciously at Soundwave. "You're giving me shit. I think."

"I do not possess any organic excrement."

Hot Rod laughed now, finally certain that Soundwave _was _joking. "Right, Spock-bot."He visibly relaxed and walked more easily at Soundwave's side.

Soundwave, who had been studying the way that the Autobots interacted with one another for weeks, felt a thrill of triumph. Perhaps it _would _be possible to fit in among at least some of these mecha. He knew he had security as Ratchet's bondmate and a friend of the Prime, but to be _part _of the Autobots ... to be one of them ... it would be a very good feeling.

As they entered Soundwave's office, Killaglitch looked up from attaching cables to a monitor on Hot Rod's desk. He smiled brightly. Despite the age that marked his features and the scarring and wear to his armor, Killa still seemed to be the bright, optimistic mechling that Soundwave had always known. Killa was a reminder of a time when Soundwave had been part of a clan, when he had known his place and had the security of knowing he was _loved_ by at least most of the people around him.

Soundwave nodded a greeting back, regretting his blast mask. He couldn't return Killa's smile. It had served its purpose among the Decepticons, but was a liability now.

He remembered Hot Rod's uncertainty, and sighed. He needed to change his behavior, and indeed the very essence of how he presented himself to the world, in order to fit in here. The mask hid his expression, and that had served to keep him a dangerous mystery among Decepticons. But now he needed to be something else - not a mystery, but to these mechs, a comrade.

Decision made, he retracted the blast mask, baring his face to the world. It slid into the sides of his helm with a soft click of metal sliding past metal. Only Steeljaw looked up at the sound, and his optics narrowed in surprised consideration.

Soundwave, attempting to appear casual, booted his terminal and, while his notes for the day loaded, also turned on the sound system. The rich, vibrant notes of a golden age ballad immediately filled the room.

"Eww, old-mech music!" Hot Rod protested.

"Get used to it, Flame-butt," Frenzy advised him. "Soundwave _is _an old mech."

"Yabut, he's not _that _old." Hot Rod scowled at Frenzy. "That's like from Nova Prime's time."

"Older than Nova." Soundwave said. "Your music preference?"

"Not. That."

Frenzy hopped down from his wall-mounted desk, walked across Soundwave's, and said, "With your permission, boss?"

"Granted."

Frenzy fiddled with the sound system for a moment, creating a play list of modern earth music. Very quickly, classic rock and roll was pouring out of the speakers. The music _was _lively, and everyone else in the room seemed to be pleased with Frenzy's choice. Soundwave nodded. "That is acceptable."

"That works," Hot Rod said, sounding surprised.

Soundwave forced a smile to his face. It felt faked, but Hot Rod answered it with a quick, and almost shy, smile back. "So," the young mech said, "what do you want me to do?"

Frenzy, after a quick look at Soundwave, grabbed a datapad from a pile on the Soundwave's desk and transmitted the contents to Hot Rod's terminal with several swift taps of the controls. "These are the supplies we need for the Nemesis's structural repairs, and these are a list of potential suppliers. Start making some phone calls and get some quotes. _I _need to get back to engineering."

"Uhh ..." Hot Rod blinked, clearly unsure if he should be taking orders from Frenzy, of all mechs.

Steeljaw said, "You do know how to connect to the human phone network via your comm, correct?"

"... right." Hot Rod sighed. "... Yep, I'll get right on this."

Clearly, he was not a mech who liked to sit still. Soundwave smiled briefly. Neither was Frenzy, though Frenzy was willing to _do _desk work when needed. Hot Rod was both younger and less disciplined. He reminded Soundwave a great deal of Frenzy when he had been a high-spirited youngling.

He sent Steeljaw a quick text message. _"Frenzy and Hot Rod, potential conflict."_

"_Yep, I'll run interference." _Steeljaw stretched out his long frame on Soundwave's desk, pushing aside a few stray datapads. _"Don't worry. Roddy will behave himself, as long as Frenzy does."_

"_Frenzy will behave." _

"_Yeah." _Steeljaw rolled onto his chest. _"Soundwave's, Frenzy's really doing a lot better. He likes Killa, too - that's a good mech. You planning to court him? It would be good for Frenzy to have some siblings again."_

"_Undecided, regarding Killaglitch."_

"_Mmm. He's still sizing you up too. But you two are sympatico, my friend." _

"_Perhaps."_

* * *

"Hmm." Frenzy studied the schematic of the Nemesis's port engine. "Wheeljack, I think I can fit through this vent here ..." he tapped an air conduit indicated on the design, "and fish the replacement electrical lines into the reaction chamber by hand once I'm in the engine."

Wheeljack gave him a skeptical look. "Your frame can't handle the compression values at the Nemesis's current depth. Your spark chamber would crush like a grape."

"Lovely image." Frenzy gave the engineer a scowling look back. "Do you have another suggestion? Because I think _lifting _the Nemesis to shallower water would be easier than completely dismantling that engine just to rewire it."

"He does have a point," Skyfire said, with a chuckle. "Once we finish the structural repairs, the ship's integrity should be good enough to allow us to tow it into shallow water, or even onto shore. That would certainly make repairs easier."

"Point." Wheeljack agreed, easily enough. "And if we can get the Nemesis into a dry dock somewhere, we could have several of you little guys get in and clean the worm tubes out of the generator outlets, too."

The Nemesis's onboard generators created tremendous amounts of heat, and the vents had become clogged with native deep-water fauna that normally colonized hydrothermal vents. The entire ship was crusted with native organic life, but the warm areas were definitely the worst. Frenzy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Megatron used to send the Stunticons in as far as they could get for cleaning. Their force fields could handle the pressure. They weren't very thorough, though, and they couldn't reach into the smaller spaces."

"My circuits just glitched," Wheeljack said, dryly, "at the thought of Wildrider chipping worm tubes off fan blades."

"It was a punishment detail," Frenzy explained. "Fortunately, the Stunties got _lots _of punishment details. Those worms grow damned quick."

"Did he actually have the attention span?" Wheeljack asked, incredulously.

"Eh. If he didn't do it right, some officer just smacked him a couple of times and then sent him back out again."

Both Autobots chuckled. Wheeljack said wryly, "Now there's a solution to discipline we never considered ..."

"Hey, big boss." Frenzy trotted into Prime's office with a cube of energon in his arms. "Ratch said to bring you this."

Optimus looked over the edge of his desk, then reached down for the fuel. "Thank you, Frenzy."

"Welcome. Need anything else?"

Optimus smiled kindly. "No, though I do want to compliment you on the reports I am hearing from my staff. You have made yourself quite useful."

Frenzy felt a thrill of pride surge through his spark. He grinned broadly. "Thanks, sir."

"How are you doing?" Optimus asked, sounding genuinely interested. "I know Ratchet can be difficult to get along with. If you have any issues ..."

"Ah, Ratch is fine." Frenzy scrambled up onto a chair, then onto Optimus's desk. "He's a good mech."

"That he is." Optimus nodded. "Still, if anything comes up ..."

"I'll be fine."

"Mm. How did your movie with Bumblebee and Daniel go?"

"You _know _about that?"

"Carly told me." Optimus's smile was kindly.

"Oh. Did she want us tailed or something?"

"No, she merely mentioned it in passing conversation. I would not have authorized surveillance, in any case, even had she asked. I don't believe there is any need."

"Oh. Thanks. Umm. It went well. The movie was lame, but the company was good. We went out for a hike in the desert after the movie. That was kinda fun."

"That is good to hear. Are you having any problems with any other mecha?"

"Hazing, you mean?" Frenzy smirked. "Boss bot, I can give as good as I get."

"I have no doubt." Optimus's smile was genuine. "However, if you do experience any trouble that you can't handle, please let me or Ratchet know."

"Gotcha." Frenzy, a veteran of Decepticon pranking, highly doubted there was anything that the Autobots could do that would make him tattle to the Prime. "Hey, would you mind if I went shopping at a mall or something?"

Optimus blinked. "My only objection is that your presence might create an unwarranted fuss."

"I'll bet. Bee should be able to fit through the doors and the humans know and trust him, right?"

"For the most part, yes. What did you have in mind?"

"Spending some of my salary." Frenzy shrugged. "Seriously, that's all. There's a comic book store at the Clearpark Mall I've always wanted to check out. Figured I'd take Steeljaw and maybe Eject and Sandflower with me, and Bee, of course, if he'll drive us."

"Then go, and with my blessings. - Frenzy, one of my dearest goals is to integrate our people with humanity. What you propose is exactly the sort of activity that will assist in desensitizing humans to our presence. And, particularly, yours."

"Pit, I'm not trying to be a hero or anything. Just wanted to get a couple graphic novels. I like the art." He shifted from foot to foot for a second. He wasn't exactly keen on hanging out with squishies (though Daniel was surprisingly tolerable) but he'd found a few things he wanted to purchase. "There's an art supply store in the mall I might go by too. Kinda want to get some markers. And paper. I want to feel it before I buy it. It's expensive."

Optimus nodded. "Just remember that you are representing all of our people. Hero or not, they will judge us all by your behavior."

"Yeah, yeah, I won't squish the squishies."

"Please take Daniel with you, as well." Optimus said, after a moment's thought. "Not because I do not trust you, but because it will make the humans more comfortable if you have another human with you."

Music pounded from Blaster's quarters as Frenzy approached. The door, now keyed to his biosigns, slid open at his approach and revealed a scene that made Frenzy smile.

Blaster was seated on his couch, clapping his hands and playing a lively dance beat. Sandflower and Ramhorn were bouncing in time to the music. Sandflower seemed to have a good grasp of rhythm and she was trying to guide Ramhorn into some dance steps that the four-legged cyber-rhino just couldn't quite get. Ramhorn was _not _noted for his coordination.

Steeljaw was sprawled lazily on the couch beside Blaster, chin on Blaster's knee. Eject was pounding a counter tempo to the beat on Steeljaw's flank; Steeljaw tolerated being used as a drum set by his young sibling with benign indifference. Bumblebee, seated crosslegged on the floor, was bobbing his head and grinning.

"C'mon, Bee, your turn!" Sandflower turned to the much taller minibot and grabbed his hand. He squawked a blat of static in protest, but she ignored that, and pulled him to his feet. Frenzy watched, grinning, as the youngling femme convinced Bumblebee to dance with her. The top of her head only came up to his thigh, but they made it work for a moment before Eject jumped up and cut in.

Frenzy, amused, hopped up onto the couch beside Steeljaw. _:Courting?:_

_:The kid? Nah. She's too young. Anyway, Blaster doesn't want to add any more to the family, and I tend to agree. She's just a lot of fun. And you should hear her sing - she's got a voice like an angel.:_

_:Should I be jealous?:_

Steeljaw smirked at him. _:I dunno. Can you sing?:_

_:Only if you want your audio sensors damaged.: _

Steeljaw reached a paw out and half-wrestled Frenzy into a playful embrace. Frenzy shrieked a startled protest, disrupting the music, and Blaster gave them an indulgent smile. "You all had better hurry if you want to get to the mall with time to shop."

"Yeah, he's right." Bumblebee rose. "We should get going."

Daniel claimed the driver's seat with a whoop, leaving the rest of them to jostle for position. Sandflower, smaller and faster, darted under Frenzy's arm to grab shotgun. That left Frenzy and Steeljaw the VW Bug's back seat - which was not an arrangement that Frenzy exactly objected to.

Then Eject launched himself over Steeljaw's large frame and claimed the middle back seat. He decisively buckled the seatbelt around his narrow waist.

Frenzy and Steeljaw both glared at the younger mechling who had seated himself between them.

"What?" Eject said, "I'm just keeping you from giving the kid an education she's not ready for yet."

"Hey!" Sandflower protested from the seat. "I do, in fact, know how tab A fits in slot B."

"Who said I was talking about you?" Eject said, smugly. "How old are you, Bee?"

"Watch it, shorty." Bumblebee responded, as they left the base behind.

Eject bounced in his seat exuberantly. "Hey, did any of you catch the Dodgers game last night?"

"No," Frenzy said, firmly.

"What about that the golf game ..."

"_No_." Everyone in the car chorused.

"Nobody loves me," Eject said, in a mock-pitiful voice.

"Yeah, everybody hates you, so go eat worms," Frenzy elbowed him. Eject whacked him back. A playful wrestling match, limited by the constraints of their seatbelts, erupted in the back seat.

"Hey, hey, you guys better tone it down or I'm pulling this car over _right now_," Bee said.

Daniel and the Autobots cracked up. Frenzy, not quite getting the context, laughed a little hesitantly.

Steeljaw explained, _:Perfect imitation of Daniel's mom.:_

_:Ah.: _

"Mercy, mercy, I'll behave!" Eject held his hands up in submission.

The good-natured rowdiness continued all the way to the mall. Frenzy, mindful of Optimus's admonition to behave, said as they pulled into the parking lot, "We probably _should _tone it down in public. Set a good example and all that."

"Errm." Daniel twisted around in the seat and stared at him. "Can't believe I just heard that from you, Frenzy."

"Hey." Frenzy protested. "I'm not _stupid_."

"He is right," Steeljaw said, tone a bit reluctant. In the same sober, dejected tone, he suggested, "Eject, maybe that means we should leave you outside."

Whatever Eject said to Steeljaw across their sibling bond made the cybercat laugh openly and sling a paw around Eject's shoulder in a playful hug before they climbed out of Bee.

All of them were still chuckling, and in a good mood, as they approached the mall entrance. As Optimus had predicted, their presence drew stares. A few daring individuals even ran up to ask for autographs once they saw the Autobot sigils on the majority of the mechs. Bee knelt beside the symbionts for a moment as they indulged the crowd. Fortunately, there were very few shoppers about, and fewer who were bold enough to approach the (slightly less than giant) group of alien robots - the city had recently been torn apart by a war between Decepticon factions, and things were far from normal for the humans.

Bumblebee crouched and crawled on his hands and knees through the mall entrance, then was followed by the symbionts. A veteran of interacting with humans in human environments, he paused to attach rubber-soled treads to the bottom of his metal feet to prevent damaged to the tile floor, then straightened up. He had plenty of head room inside.

The symbionts, smaller and lighter, scurried ahead of him. Only Frenzy held back, feeling suddenly intimidated.

"Are you okay?" Bee asked, voice kindly. He casually rested a hand on Frenzy's shoulder, and bent over a bit so he could look Frenzy in the optics.

"It's ..." Frenzy paused, and shook his head as if to rattle his disorganized thoughts into coherency. "Bumblebee, our people are at war. And we're going _shopping_."

"And life goes on," Bumblebee observed. "On Cybertron, when the war began ... the officers made sure we always had leave. It should be the same here. All of us need leave to get away from the fighting. Optimus makes sure we have time to be _normal_, to interact with civilians, to leave the fighting behind for a little while. Also, it's good for the humans to see Cybertronians that aren't a threat. I've tried really hard myself to make friends with a lot of humans."

"Megatron never let us leave base. _Ever_. For, uh, obvious reasons. Mecha snuck out or got into trouble on missions, but we weren't supposed to go out without a good reason. No recreation. Not like _this_."

"For obvious reasons," Bumblebee agreed.

"Though the image is pretty funny ... I can just see the results of Megatron giving some of our warriors shore leave."

Bee snickered. "I can imagine."

Frenzy was surprised by the easy camaraderie he felt with the young scout. They'd been enemies for so long. Now, they were sharing a private joke as if they'd been friends for a very long time. Bee's blue optics were guileless and his grin genuine.

They had a lot in common, Frenzy realized. He and Bee were nearly the same age. Both were spies, scouts, and saboteurs. Bumblebee was small and easily damaged and yet had survived a savage war relatively undamaged ... mostly because he was a far more savage fighter than his appearance would indicate. Frenzy ranked Bumblebee up there with Ratchet, Jazz, Prowl, and Mirage on his short list of mecha he preferred _not _to tangle with in a fight.

Up ahead, Sandflower and Eject had reached a fountain in the middle of an intersection of several mall corridors. Eject produced a handful of coins from his subspace and gave them to the youngling to throw into the water. Then he said something to her that made her double over with helpless laughter, hands over her face. When she straightened up, she whacked him and he danced back, hands held up in mock defense.

"That would explain a lot about the infighting between you guys. Not being allowed to go outside, I mean." Bumblebee observed, sounding thoughtful. "I'd kill someone if I was stuck in a base with no leave time outside."

"You? Kill someone? _Never_." Frenzy elbowed him in the thigh with a clunk. "You're the most harmless Autobot ever. I've never, ever, been in fear of my life from you. Not once."

Bumblebee laughed aloud. Frenzy, a bit of a skip in his stride, walked cheerfully beside the minibot.

The comic book store was located in a little-traveled corner of the mall. Bee couldn't easily fit inside, but he sat down on the ground and began to provide autographs and converse with the thin crowd of humans. Many had nervous questions about the war, and the Decepticons, and the recent fighting in California, and Frenzy was glad to flee into the store and avoid that discussion with the squishies.

The Autobots had set him up with a debit card, and he had two months' worth of salary in the account - which was several thousand dollars. He was pleasantly surprised by how far the money would stretch when all his and Soundwave's basic needs were being taken care of by the Autobots, and his main desires were art supplies and comic books. He quickly loaded up on an armload of graphic novels and comic books from varying genres, both ones he was personally interested in and several that Eject and Steeljaw suggested. The Autobots, likewise, picked out generous selections of her own.

Sandflower produced a twenty dollar bill from her subspace, studied it for a moment (Frenzy sensed her accessing the internet, and supposed she was researching how American currency worked) and then, after considerable deliberation, picked out two manga novels.

_:She doesn't have much money of her own, I bet,: _Steeljaw said, in a very encrypted transmission to Frenzy. _:They just got to Earth last week._

_:Soundwave slipped her father some cash until he could get work or officially get on the Autobot payroll. And they sold some precious metals and alien art they brought with them - the bosses apparently suggested what sorts of small stuff they could bring to sell for cash. But you're right - they don't have a lot of money, given they're civilian refugees and the plan is for them to integrate with human society.: _Frenzy looked down at his thick stack of books, then at the manga that Sandflower was perusing. _:Is there an ATM around here?:_

_:Just around the corner. If you want to get some more cash for her, I'll keep her occupied until you get back.: _Steeljaw gave Frenzy a wolfish grin.

_:Awesome, thanks.: _Frenzy ran a hand down Steeljaw's shoulder, fingers sliding between the chinks of Steeljaw's armor in a casual way that promised more to come later. Steeljaw briefly leaned into his hand, and shot him a much more serious smile.

The group of humans surrounding Bumblebee had grown to about twenty. Bee sat crosslegged on the ground. He was posing for a photograph with two kids in his lap and their father next to his shoulder. Frenzy, glad the humans were distracted, slipped out of the store in search of the ATM.

He found it quickly, resisted the absent thought that he could hack it for _all _its money in a few moments, and withdrew a hundred bucks. He _had _ample funds (and then some) in his account. He turned, money in hand, to discover that a pair of humans were heading in his direction. Both were men, burly and powerful.

"Hey!" One called. "You're Frenzy, aren't you?"

"That's my name. How'd you know it?" He snapped, a bit defensively. He just didn't feel comfortable around humans.

"Recognized you from the internet." The man gave him bright grin. "Decepticon, right?"

"I was." He shifted the queue of objects in his subspace around, bringing his spear forward in case he needed to grab it quickly. "Neutral, now."

"Yeah, that's what we heard." The man came closer. He seemed confident, and fearless. "Hey, can I get a photograph with you?"

Bumblebee had been posing with the humans. Frenzy supposed it was expected, though he was very reluctant to let the greasy, squishy, human that close to him. He forced himself agree to it anyway, because he knew Prime would expect it of him, and nodded. "Sure. You want an autograph too?"

"Yeah." The man stepped up next to Frenzy. Frenzy's plating clamped flat, despite his attempt at a friendly tone. He had to be nice to them, but at a spark-deep level he didn't _like _most humans.

It took Frenzy a bare nanosecond to realize the man's friend didn't have a camera in hand. By then, it was too late. The man slung his arm around Frenzy's shoulders ... and then pressed the blunt, round, cold muzzle of a large handgun to his helm. "Don't move," the man hissed, "don't fight. You might not be alive but I understand a bullet to the brain will still kill you."

At point blank range, Frenzy's armor would be insufficient to completely protect him from the projectile - he recognized a .44 magnum. He considered using his formidable strength in self defense, but the human's reflexes were probably fast enough to pull the trigger before he could move. Besides, he wasn't supposed to hurt the damned squishies. Frightened and confused, he hissed, "What do you want?"

"Walk." The man stepped back, and concealed the gun in the pocket of his jacket. His hand remained on it. "Towards the south exit. Don't contact anyone. Just _walk_. You try to radio anyone, I'll _know _it."

"Who are you?" Frenzy said, even as he completely ignored the demand not to contact anyone. He fully opened his bond and let Soundwave feel every bit of his terror. He couldn't tell Soundwave what was wrong, but Soundwave would know _something _had happened and could raise the alarm.

"Don't you wish you knew," the man laughed, a nasty sound.

Soundwave reacted to Frenzy's emotions with a burst of panicked static. Fast on the heels of that unintelligible response came the feeling of Ratchet's warm, confident presence. Frenzy jumped in surprise at the unexpected contact, then quickly accepted it - he'd spent most of his life sharing his spark with other mechs. Ratchet demanded, _:Kid, what's wrong?:_

_:I'm being kidnapped.: _Frenzy reported. _:South exit. Guy says he'll know if I use my comms.:_

Quantum bonds were undetectable. The humans obviously didn't know that.

_:Where's everyone else? And play along for now, kid. We'll get you out.: _Ratchet demanded. Frenzy was surprised by the amount of fury he could sense from the medic. Also, the diminutive _kid _had been accompanied by affection and warmth. He'd always found the nickname demeaning, but he would never again complain about it coming from Ratchet.

_:Still at the mall. I went to get money from an ATM. We're leaving by the south exit.: _He tried to force himself to stay calmer. Soundwave was terrified for him. Ratchet wasn't far behind.

_:I just had Blaster tell Steeljaw. He'll alert the others. We're going to radio silence until we know for sure if they can detect comms or not.:_

They'd reached the south exit. As they stepped through the doorway, Frenzy heard human screams. Squishies were scattering in all directions as Decepticons landed in the parking lot. Foremost among them was Astrotrain.

"What the slag do you want with _me_?" Frenzy demanded, even as it all clicked. He wasn't stupid. He _was _a good hostage, if they wanted a certain communications expert to join them ... and didn't know the extent of Soundwave's damage. Also, they were probably underestimating the level of Soundwave's anger when one of his symbionts was threatened. Soundwave was slow to anger, but he protected what was his, and right now, Frenzy was his _only _symbiont. The sense Frenzy was getting from Soundwave was coldly, analytically, _furious_.

Astrotrain closed his fist around Frenzy and hoisted him aloft. He grinned nastily. "Not you, runt. Your master."

_:Pit, Ratch, I think he wants to use me as blackmail to force Soundwave to work for him.:_

_:Where do the humans fit in?:_

_:Swindle just gave 'em a wad of cash. Hired muscle. Slag, I should have fought.:_

_:No, you did the right thing. It would have gotten messy if the 'cons came into the mall after you.: _Ratchet's words were shaken, but he was trying to be reassuring. _:Don't worry, kid. I'm going to take that damned psychotic shuttle apart with my own hands.:_

* * *

An hour later, Frenzy was still reporting the progress of his kidnapping to Ratchet - but had calmed considerably. Frenzy's assessment (and Prowl concurred) was that Frenzy was in little danger of permanent damage. _Jazz _had observed, to Frenzy's dark amusement when Ratchet relayed the comment along, that Astrotrain was probably in more danger from Frenzy than vice versa.

"How much does Astrotrain know about Soundwave's damage?" Prowl asked, as soon as they could convene a tactical meeting. The tactician's optics were cool, but Ratchet wasn't fooled. Prowl was quietly furious, in his own calculated way.

Jazz shrugged. "Ah can't rule out a bit of espionage given the entire Autobot crew knows the basics. However, Starscream says he hasn't said anything to the 'cons, even on his side."

"Do you believe him?"

"Yah, he's a lousy liar. And it's to his advantage if his faction retains their fear of Soundwave." Jazz smirked briefly, then his expression grew serious. "Prowl, if we can figure out where Astrotrain's hiding out, Mirage and ah can go in after t' runt."

Jazz, Prowl, and Optimus all looked at Ratchet. Ratchet grimaced. "Kid says they're in earth orbit again. Based on the fight they had with Six Shot and his merry band of misfits, I'm thinking they're keeping to the high ground."

"_Pit_." Jazz said, with feeling. "He have any intel on their fuel levels or weapons?"

"Frenzy says he's picking up low levels of gamma, enough to make him think Astrotrain has at least one nuke in his bomb bay." Ratchet said, after a quick conference with Frenzy.

Prime said, after a moment of chilled silence from all of them, "We will not be attempting direct retrieval."

"If he were to set off an airburst in low orbit ..." Ratchet trailed off, but they could all envision the havoc that the resulting EMP would cause to Earth's infrastructure. The loss of utilities, communication and transportation would result in the deaths of hundreds of millions of humans.

"How's t' kid doing?" Jazz said. "Mentally. Physically. Ah need to know what t' expect from him."

"They haven't hurt him. Hand him a gun, he'd be able to fight at your side right now." Ratchet let Frenzy know Jazz was asking about how he was feeling, and was rewarded by a burst of surprise and pleasure echoed through Soundwave's spark. "Frenzy's ... strong. Fierce. He's got a realistic level of fear. He thinks they'll kill him if they don't get what they want, and if he dies, Soundwave might go with him. But for now, he's not scared. He's a hostage and hostages aren't much use dead. He's, uh, plotting havoc as we speak, too. He's _mad_."

"Will _you _be okay?" Jazz asked, pointedly. "If the worst happens. Because we need to start planning contingencies."

"Jazz!" Prime snapped.

Ratchet shook his head. "It's okay, it's a fair question." He envisioned a world without Soundwave's steady presence in it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Soundwave at his side ... and a future without him in it was dark, cold, and empty. Then he looked up at Prime, who was watching him with real concern, and he knew the answer. At spark, he was pragmatic, loyal, and had lived a long, long time.

"I won't be okay. But I will be able to function." Ratchet folded his arms across his chest, daring Jazz to argue with him. "I won't forget my duties. Soundwave's ... he's something I've been looking for my entire life, but I won't leave you guys behind. I had a great life before I met him, and life would go on after if ... if something happened to him."

Optimus reached a hand across the table and rested it on Ratchet's forearm. "Ratchet, it is not just that we need you, but that we love you. We would be devastated to lose you."

"I know that," Ratchet said, and he honestly did. He didn't want to think of Prime's grief or the anger and sadness of the rest of the crew if he followed Soundwave into the Well. He couldn't hurt his friends like that. Besides, he was the best medic the Autobots had.

Soundwave would understand, he knew. Soundwave would wait for him in the Well.

Soundwave might chose to _live _for him, too ... the thought made him uneasy, at least partly because it would mean Soundwave would lose Frenzy, and his bondmate would be shattered by that loss. So would Ratchet. Frenzy had grown on him.

"Let's not get too morbid here," Jazz said. "Ah'm sure we can get t' little scraplet back somehow. Pit, knowing Frenzy, he might get _himself _out."

Jazz had a good point. Ratchet turned his thoughts inward, found the thin thread of the connection that was Frenzy, and said, _:Kid. We'll do everything we can to get you back but - any odds you can get loose?:_

_:Sure.: _Frenzy's response was sarcastic. _:They've got me in a cell in Astrotrain's hold. I could bust out, but then where would I go? I'm not exactly armored for atmospheric re-entry.:_

_:Point.:_

_:If you could pick me up in orbit, I could be out an airlock in ten seconds flat, and leave a few viruses behind that'll keep Astrotrain out of commission for at least a vorn.: _Frenzy wasn't bragging. He sounded a lot more pissed and less afraid now than he had been earlier. _:Already got 'em written, and I know which dataport to use. Fragger's firewalls were written by Soundwave. You'd think it would occur to him I know where the back doors to his systems are.:_

Ratchet relayed Frenzy's response to the others, with a small smirk. It was hard to feel any humor with Soundwave's apprehension and fury roiling across the bond between them, but Frenzy was definitely plotting justifiable revenge on his captors.

Jazz snorted a laugh of dark amusement. "Prowl, can ah have 'im for special ops? _Please_?"

Prime said mildly, "I don't believe it would be kind to Soundwave to put Frenzy into any sort of danger on a regular basis. However, we may be able to use this as an unexpected opportunity to deal a significant blow to Astrotrain's faction."

"No shit. Ratch, how well _will _the kid do in vacuum?" Jazz's visor was considerably brighter. If he could do as he claimed - and Ratchet had no reason to think he couldn't - it would be a tactically significant blow. "Pit, it's like Astrotrain just kidnapped a trojan horse. Ya know how we never wanted the symbionts in our holding cells 'cuz of t' damage they could do if they got loose? Ah'm _so _glad he's on our side now!"

Ratchet shook his head, even as he queried Frenzy to verify what he already knew as a medic. "The good news is, he's got a ton of experience working on orbital platforms. That'll help. However, he's just not big enough to support all the mods needed to operate fully independently in space. He doesn't have the thermal shielding needed for survival. His power plant and thrusters also won't run without a catalyst, and he's configured for an oxygen atmosphere right now. He's got an oxygen tank on board, but it's only good for a couple hours - or a few minutes of powered flight. After that he's on battery power, with no thrusters, and his batteries are only good for about an earth day. If he's sheltered from the sun, he might survive two days at most, assuming his energon tanks and lines hold pressure and don't start to leak. If he's exposed to to direct sunlight in low earth orbit ... I'd give him fifteen minutes, tops. Maybe a bit more if he transforms into cassette form and presents the least amount of surface area to the sun. He's got onboard gyros for attitude control."

"Ugly way to die," Jazz ran a hand over his face.

"Yes." Ratchet said. "On the bright side, Soundwave used him and his brother to maintain communication satellites. With the right external oxy tanks and some form of thermal shielding, he'd do okay."

Jazz ran a hand over his face. "We need to get a cloaked ship within jumping distance of Astrotrain, then."

"Could Mirage extend his shield to cover Cosmos if we had Wheeljack and Skyfire provide him with a secondary power source?" Prime asked.

"Maybe, but it'd take a power plant bigger than he could physically carry to do it and it'd risk blowing his mods out. You think Ratch has a temper? You should hear Wheeljack when he has to fix 'Raj's mods." Jazz rubbed his nasal ridge under his visor with two fingers. "'It's the _mass _of what he's shielding, not the size, that matters. He'd have to hook into the equivalent of a small nuclear generator and hiding the thermal emissions from that would just add to the power drain. Cosmos masses almost as much as Astrotrain, even if he subspaces ninety percent of it when he transforms. Honestly? It'd be better to use Hound, and have him cast a hologram on Cosmos of something suitable - we could probably disguise Cosmos as a large communications satellite. The humans have put some pretty big ones into orbit."

"Neither Hound nor Mirage is well equipped for orbital operations," Prowl objected. "And there's still the question of how we would get them _into _orbit. Skyfire is not subtle when he launches and Cosmos is currently en route from Mars. They can't miss his approach. They will know when he is on Earth, and keep appropriate tabs on his location."

"Well, Pit." Ratchet growled. "There has to be _some _option."

Prowl said slowly, "We could turn Soundwave over to Astrotrain."

"_No!_" Optimus snapped before Ratchet could voice his own objection. "We will not betray his trust."

Jazz shook his head. "We should ask Soundwave what he wants. Ah think ah'm following Prowl's plans, though. Astrotrain just wants Soundwave because he's a useful tactician, engineer, and comms officer and he's dumb enough to think he can control him if he keeps Frenzy as a hostage. What Astrotrain doesn't know - what nobody outside this room should know - is that Soundwave's bonded to Ratchet. On Soundwave's part, ah have no concerns about Soundwave's loyalty even if he wasn't bonded to Ratch.

"Soundwave's motivations are a hell of a lot more complex, ah think, than most credit him for ..." Jazz glanced at Ratchet, who nodded agreement, "but at his core, his primary motivation is survival of his symbionts - symbiont - and threatening Frenzy is _not _the way to earn his loyalty. Being the biggest power around and treating him and Frenzy well _is _the way to get to his spark. And once he gives his loyalty to someone, it's permanent unless ya really screw up. That's hardcoded behavior, all beta carriers I've ever met are like that. Ah've seen how he looks at you, Prime. Ya got a fan, and by fan, ah mean he's glommed on t' ya as his new master."

"I am no one's master."

"Tell that t' the fragger's coding. He'd die for yah - and ah think he'd _live _for Ratchet, if it came down t' that."

Ratchet winced. "Jazz, I don't want to think of what losing Frenzy would do to him. Frenzy is his world."

"Yah, well, then he's a moon in a complicated orbit around two worlds and you're number two." Jazz shrugged. "Just sayin', he _bonded _t' yah, Ratch. That means a lot. Means he's got something t' live for. Means he's loyal to us, because yer loyal t' us. Anyone who doubts Ratchet's loyalty, raise their hand now ... yeah, thought so."

Prime and Prowl both frowned at Jazz's passionate defense. While they likely agreed, Jazz had gone on a bit long in his defense of Soundwave.

"Anyway. I say we send Soundwave in after Frenzy. We extract 'em later when we got a better chance at success. In the meantime, Frenzy and Soundwave can feed Ratchet all sorts of useful intel." Jazz, head of special ops, shrugged. "It's a good opportunity. And when they leave, they can try to take out Astrotrain and anyone else they can get hack, blast, or blow up on the way out."

"That's too dangerous!" Ratchet protested, rising from his chair.

Prime quelled Ratchet's explosion with a calm but pointed look. "It is ... not a bad plan, provided Soundwave is willing. Ratchet, with Frenzy's assistance, could Soundwave pass for reasonably normal over an extended period?"

"Probably," Ratchet said, in a low, reluctant, voice. "If he also had Steeljaw's help. Are we going to send Jaws in too?"

Jazz and Prowl exchanged a look. Ratchet was reasonably sure the two weren't bonded, but you could see an unspoken, non-verbal moment of communication between them.

"That's not a bad idea," Jazz said. "And, ah, give t' kids full permission to bond if they feel t' urge. That'll give us one more untraceable quantum link for inside intel."

"You can't suggest they bond just because it's convenient for espionage!" Ratchet slapped the palm of his hand down on the table. Prime and Prowl jumped; Jazz didn't.

"No, but ah can suggest that it's a dangerous mission and they might want to bond because it might be t' only chance they get. Also, if something happens to Soundwave ..." Jazz trailed off, visor dimming. "Honestly? Ah like Frenzy. Ah don't want to lose him. Jaws has already told me he'll do anything it takes to keep the little fragger with us."

Prime sighed, but nodded. "I agree with Jazz's logic. They will have my blessings."

"Wait, wait a second. You can't seriously be considering sending Soundwave into ..."

Ratchet's protest was cut off by Jazz. "Ratch, ah'd send m'own sparklings into the Pit if it helped the chances of ending the war. Giving Soundwave to Astrotrain's like convincing a Sharkticon that a solar bomb's an energon treat."

Prowl nodded slowly. "And Soundwave is far more capable than one would expect, given his damage."

"... yeah." Ratchet said, reluctantly. "And you are right, between Soundwave and Frenzy - and Steeljaw - Astrotrain's faction won't stand a chance. But how are we going to convince Astrotrain that Steeljaw defected?"

In perfect imitation of Soundwave, Jazz said, "Steeljaw, now Soundwave's symbiont."

Prowl nodded slowly. "So the scenario we present is that Soundwave heard Frenzy screaming for help, escaped from our control, comm'd Astrotrain for pickup - and along the way, snatched Steeljaw and force-bonded him. I believe that Astrotrain will find that plausible, given Astrotrain's core psychological makeup."

"Anyone who knows anything of carrier culture would be skeptical, but Astrotrain isn't exactly the most cultured of mecha." Ratchet agreed, running a hand over his optics.

Optimus said, "Do the rest of you agree with the plan?"

The others concurred, Ratchet very reluctantly. Ratchet added, "... tomorrow morning. I want to give Soundwave a complete physical ..."

Jazz leered. Prime scowled at Jazz.

"... because he's still very vulnerable to systems issues and he's going to be a long way from help." Ratchet concluded. "He also needs to be equipped with weapons and supplies."

Prowl steepled his fingers together. "I will apprise Starscream of these developments."

Optimus nodded. "... And Ratchet, make sure that both Soundwave and Frenzy know they are _not _expendable and we want them back alive."

"I think they already know that," Ratchet said, quietly. "But I'll tell them you said so."

Optimus inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Let's call Soundwave in and discuss the details with him."

"Plan, understood," Soundwave said, voice confident and posture steady, but spark spinning with fear that only Ratchet could detect. He sat upright in a chair, hands folded on the table before him, and for all the world looked like he was discussing the simple requisition of supplies.

"Soon as we get a chance to get you out," Prowl said, "We will."

"And then you can go back to your paperwork." Ratchet said, teasing Soundwave a bit.

"Soundwave, will appreciate that."

"Wait, wait, he likes paperwork?" Jazz blinked his visor in mock astonishment. "Can ah have him, Prime? _Please_?"

Optimus smiled kindly at Soundwave. "I believe he's already taken, Jazz."

Ratchet snorted a laugh. He also felt Soundwave's apprehension lighten just a little at Optimus's gently teasing words that acknowledged Soundwave's bond with Ratchet. Ratchet felt a sense of fierce _loyalty _to Prime coming from Soundwave. Jazz was right. There was no doubt in Ratchet's mind that Optimus had, perhaps unintentionally, done something to trigger Soundwave's beta coding into seeing the Prime as a master. Soundwave, fortunately, was smart enough not to let Optimus know the depth of his devotion, and Ratchet wasn't about to clue Optimus in, even if Jazz had tried already. Optimus, who believed in the right of free will for all sentient beings, would take it badly.

Ratchet was just glad that Soundwave's beta coding was no longer fixated on _him_.

"Ah might steal him." Jazz smirked. "Ratch better watch out."

Soundwave turned to Ratchet and said, "Jazz acceptable for a bondmate, but Frenzy and Jazz in secondary bond would be problematic. Pranking level, possibly objectionable. Your opinion?"

"My opinion is _hands off_," Ratchet growled at Jazz. "I don't share."

"Ah just wanted 'im for paperwork!"

Soundwave said precisely, "Soundwave observe, Prowl more suitable for Jazz's ... paperwork assistance."

Soundwave was scared for Frenzy, but Ratchet loved him for his ability to maintain his composure. Now that they had a plan of action, Soundwave was calm enough to banter with the officers.

Prime grinned. Prowl flashed Soundwave a rare smile. Jazz threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Everyone's a comedian. You're stealin' ma show, ma mechs."

"Aaaand ... back on task." Prowl sobered. "Soundwave, Jazz and I will figure out a plausible escape plan for you tonight. Ratchet, have Frenzy tell Astrotrain that Soundwave will meet him for pickup tomorrow with Steeljaw. Jazz, follow up with Starscream and keep him apprised of the situation."

* * *

Jazz's quarters appeared to be surprisingly neat, but the walls were lined with secured cabinets. Ratchet didn't want to know what was in most of those lockers. Soundwave stood quietly behind Ratchet. Ratchet was surprised by the amount of curiosity he was picking up from the carrier's spark. To look at Soundwave right now, he appeared to have the emotions of a drone, even if he'd left his blast mask uncharacteristically open, but if Ratchet was reading him right, he was interested in Jazz as a potential ally or even friend. The carrier's mind was working hard to analyze the social situation.

"So ya need some weapons," Jazz said, leaning comfortably against his room's desk. "Ya come t' the right mech."

"Affirmative."

"He'll need manual transformation and firing triggers for the guns," Ratchet said, to Jazz. "I'll help wire them in. His targeting is also going to be iffy. We haven't had time to get him on a gun range, and I'm not expecting him to be a sharp shooter at this time."

Jazz nodded. "Ah have just the weapons in mind. Been meaning t' talk t' you two about this anyway. Now that yer bondmates, we _really _need to get Soundwave properly armed. Ah know ya'd carry on if something happened to him, Ratch, but ah don' wan't t' see ya in that sort of pain. And ah don't want to lose ya either, Soundwave. Ah like yah, much as it shocks me t' say that."

"Jazz's words, agreed with." Soundwave inclined his head in acknowledgement.

By rights, Ironhide should have been the one to equip Soundwave with proper weaponry, However, Ironhide had a straight-forward, explosive approach to warfare. Soundwave had a small power plant, so he couldn't power a heavy weapon, and he had multiple physical limitations that would affect his targeting ability. Jazz's keen, and admittedly evil, mind was better suited to this task.

The head of Special Ops opened one of his lockers. Ratchet purposefully did _not _comment on the rust gun and solar grenades in the locker, or the box of what appeared to be virus darts. Jazz lifted out three different guns, plus two knives, and then bumped the door shut with his hip.

"Gamma blaster." Jazz indicated a silver hand gun with a bell-shaped muzzle. "Make sure you _don't _use it around humans. It'll fry our circuits. It'll kill organics dead."

Ratchet winced. He'd had to repair gamma ray damage many times, most recently with Six Shot. The weapon Jazz had produced wasn't strictly legal, but it _was _effective at fritzing any circuits which weren't very well shielded. It was strictly a close-range weapon, but a very effective one.

Soundwave wordlessly subspaced the gun.

"Concussion blaster." Jazz handed over the second weapon, also a hand-held gun. "Don't use it in confined spaces, you'll do as much damage to yourself as to your target. It won't work in vacuum, either. It's got a time delay detonation sequence, though, so you can use it as a grenade if you need to blow an airlock or leave a nasty surprise for the bad guys. Works great in open air on a planet's surface."

"Soundwave, familiar with effects."

Jazz smirked at him. "Yeah, I think I knocked you out cold with this exact weapon once."

"Affirmative."

"Glad you don't hold grudges, m'mech." Jazz handed the weapon over, then held up the third weapon. "And this beauty. This is a long-duration laser blaster. _Not _a laser rifle. It fires a field of twenty laser beams for a period of half a second, for a shotgun effect."

Soundwave reached for the weapon. "Query: Angle of spread?"

"You can control the pattern with this dial here." Jazz said, pointing out the control after Soundwave had the weapon in his hands. "It's normally fired with a neural interface, but ah can modify it for a finger trigger. Fully charged, a power cartridge for it will fire twenty blasts. Ah've got fourteen cartridges for it, and we can wire a battery charger to your power plant so you can self-charge them. The charger should fit in one of your empty symbiont docking bays. You can subspace the cartridges."

Ratchet grunted approval. "Good weapon. Soundwave, let me see your arm. Let's get this thing mounted."

Soundwave stood still while Ratchet removed the armor on his forearm, and attached the laser blaster to his weapons mounts. Jazz dug through another cabinet while Ratchet worked, and produced the parts needed to make a hand-held trigger that also retracted under Soundwave's armor when it wasn't needed. "Safety's here." Jazz pointed out a switch.

Soundwave nodded. When Ratchet reattached his armor plating, the gun was almost invisible. He ran through a couple transformation sequences, retracting and exposing the weapon, and nodded with satisfaction. "A good weapon."

Jazz handed him both knives. "Energon blade," he indicated the shorter of the two, "and a duryllium short sword. I don't know if you have much training in martial arts ..."

"Some."

"Good. Then you know not to use the energon blade around anything flammable. That duryllium sword isn't much good in a fight - the balance is lousy - but it might come in handy if you need to hack through softer metal. Get enough kinetic energy behind it, and it'll go through one inch stainless steel bars without damage to the blade."

"Thank you," Soundwave secreted both weapons in his subspace.

"And finally, my special selection of explosives. You've seen the damage ah can do. Do ya need me t' explain 'em to you?"

"Unnecessary. And thank you." Soundwave accepted several nasty devices from the saboteur. As Jazz had implied, he already knew what they could do from personal experience on the other side of the war. Jazz had given him two EMP grenades, four rust mines (Ratchet pretended not to see those; he _hated _rust nanytes), a ten pound brick of plastic explosive and dozen assorted triggering devices, two chemical explosive magnetic space mines, and a data chip full of nasty viruses and hacking codes. Soundwave couldn't use the last, but Frenzy could. (So could Steeljaw, but Steelie already had the latest in Autobot hacking tech uploaded into his memory already.)

Ratchet reached into his own subspace and produced several brand new laser scalpels that were robust enough to double as weapons, an extensive repair kit, a dozen emergency ration bars plus a box of energon candies and a cube of Frenzy's favorite sweetened energon, and a datapad that detailed all the manual maintenance that Soundwave required. He waved the latter in the air. "Make sure the kid follows everything on here. Or get Steeljaw to help you. _Don't _neglect anything or you'll regret it."

"Understood." Soundwave packed everything into his subspace.

"You might need these, too." Jazz handed him plastic vials containing the ingredients needed to make thermite, and a small metal box of full of vials of toxins, hallucinogens, and sedatives. Of the latter kit, he said, "I assume you know what to do with these."

Soundwave peered at the contents. Everything was labeled in Cybertronian, but he recognized the colors and he could get Ratchet to double-check his identification and mark them in English before he left. "Affirmative. Sedating the entire crew via the communal energon dispenser may be a viable method of escape."

"Good grammar, Soundwave," Ratchet said, flashing him a grin. "And yeah, that's a great idea."

"Thank you," Soundwave said, voice neutral but spark very pleased by the praise.

Jazz snorted. "I'd just poison the whole lot of them."

"Also a viable option."

"Prime wouldn't approve," Ratchet warned. "Neither would I. Not everyone on Astrotrain's side is incorrigibly evil. Some are just trying to survive. Some have been bullied or blackmailed, as he is attempting to do with you."

"Yes," Soundwave said, "Sometimes, war requires death of those not-evil."

"You'd know." Ratchet felt the sorrow from Soundwave's spark, and knew of the deep loss he was speaking of. He touched Soundwave's arm. "I'm off shift now. So are you."

* * *

Soundwave felt no desire from Ratchet, no _lust_, but as soon as they were in their quarters alone, the medic pressed his lips to Soundwave's and rested his hands on Soundwave's hips. Soundwave wrapped his arms around Ratchet and pulled him close, wordless emotions flowing between them.

Soundwave was _terrified_ again, now that he had time to stop and think. The weapons and supplies that the Autobots had equipped him with had brought what he was about to do home.

He didn't try to hide his feelings from Ratchet. He couldn't, and, anyway, he felt no need. Once, he would have let nothing stand in his way if his symbionts were threatened. Now, however, he was damaged, weak, and desperately afraid. Ratchet understood him, was bonded to him, and he did not need to conceal anything of what he was from the medic.

The medic said shortly, "Have more faith in yourself. Have some faith in _us_. We'll get the scraplet back. _And _you_. _And we'll kick some afts along the way."

Soundwave pressed a kiss to Ratchet's chevron. He loved this Autobot, for all that he was cranky and brusque and impatient and _perfect_ in all his imperfections. He was so worried, _scared_, but Ratchet gave him something to cling to and have faith in.

The medic's spark was full of worry too, but there was also confidence in it, and surprisingly tender concern. Ratchet kissed him again, then said, "You should recharge. It will be a long day tomorrow."

"Make love to me," he said, softly.

It was about comfort, and connection, not passion. Ratchet understood; with the bond they shared comprehension came easily between them. The medic gently guided him to the berth, and didn't hesitate when Soundwave lay back with his knees apart. He trusted Ratchet, and he gave himself entirely to his bondmate. He needed to give up all control, just for a bit.

Ratchet's hands were tender. His touch was comforting. Submitting himself entirely to his lover was reassuring in ways that Soundwave couldn't explain.

When he climaxed, it came with long, rolling waves. He didn't cry out, but rather simply clung to Ratchet. The medic shuddered to a finish, then pressed a kiss to Soundwave's cheek arch.

Soundwave keened softly, once, expressing the fear and grief he would share with no one else. Ratchet held him long into the night, as recharge eluded both of them. They simply lay together, limbs intertwined and emotions intermingled. No conversation was necessary.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

* * *

Author's notes:

I have the rest of the story (32 chapters total) done in rough draft. I just need to write a few more scenes to connect the dots between events, and polish up the rough edges. I should be posting the rest of the story over the next few weeks. Whew!

* * *

Steeljaw stepped into Blaster's berthroom, footsteps hesitant. Blaster was seated on the edge of his berth, clearly readying himself for recharge.

_:Boss.:_

Blaster patted the berth beside him, inviting Steeljaw to join him. The cybercat did, with an easy leap. Blaster leaned back against the wall, and pulled his symbiont into his lap. He wrapped his arms around Steeljaw's small body, and held him close without a word. Although he had been trying to block his fears, Steeljaw had sensed them anyway - or, perhaps, he simply knew his master well enough to read his mind using nothing more than intuition even when their quantum bond was closed.

_:You're scared for me.: _Steeljaw stated this plainly.

_:For all of us,: _Blaster admitted. _:Ah don't want to lose ya, Jaws.:_

_:I have no intention of bonding with Soundwave,: _Steeljaw said, quietly, _:If that's your concern. I like him ... but I do not think our personalities would be a good match. He's too strict and I'm too independent.:_

Blaster sighed. _:You know I wouldn't ever stop you from leaving. You bonded with me because I was available, and you were alone.:_

_:And I've never regretted it.: _Steeljaw looked his master in the optics.

He stroked his hand down Steeljaw's head. _:Jaws ... I know you love Frenzy. I can _feel _it. I would never stop you from following your spark.:_

_:You and Soundwave ... would share a tertiary bond, if Steeljaw and I ... would you be okay with it? Jazz told me that they no longer consider Frenzy a security risk.: _

Blaster cupped Steeljaw's face in both hands. _:It's okay, Steeljaw. I like Frenzy, and Soundwave's a good mech. It'll work out.:_

_:... Thanks, boss.:_

_:Thought why in the Pit they're trusting Soundwave so early ...: _Blaster trailed off, as he caught a mischievous glint in Steeljaw's optics. _:The good doctor and Soundwave merged?:_

_:Let's just say that Astrotrain's made a cosmically bad error in judgment by kidnapping Frenzy.:_

_:D'oh, I could have told anyone that.: _Blaster rolled his optics. _:Too bad Soundwave and Frenzy can't talk now.:_

_:Soundwave and Frenzy can't, but Frenzy and Ratchet can.: _ Steeljaw gave Blaster a sly look.

Blaster was silent for a long, long, moment. _:More than just a merge, then?:_

_:Yeah.:_

_:Well, explains why they don't consider him a security risk,: _Blaster snickered, _:And ... damn, I've never been able to catch more than faint images and emotions over a secondary bond - before your time, I had a couple symbionts with love bonds, but you know that.:_

Steeljaw just shook his head. _:From what Soundwave told me when we were making mission plans earlier, it's a case of good compatibility in all directions. It's what made Soundwave's team such good spies. Now, as far as Ratch and Soundwave goes, that _is a _pure, sheer, quantum-level match. _

_:I would have never guessed that Ratchet and Sounders would be that well matched.:_

_:Me neither. But I'm happy for them. And, uh, I didn't tell you slag about this, Boss. It's _so _classified.:_

_:I'm not entirely sure Jazz expects you to keep secrets from me,: _Blaster replied, with dry amusement, _:But we won't tell the kids.:_

Steeljaw smirked at that. "The kids" were Ramhorn and Eject, in this context. Ramhorn's processor was barely more complex than that of a dinobot, so the team seldom included him in matters that required discretion. Eject, while possibly smarter than Steeljaw, was just plain immature.

Blaster said, _:You mentioned mission planning. Jazz said he was going to send you with Soundwave to retrieve Frenzy. Let's go over the details - I may want to tweak your comset and swap some of your weapons out.:_

_:Yeah.: _Steeljaw sat up in his arms. _:Set me up for close-quarters fighting. Also, some weapons for Frenzy. Jazz'll supply 'em, but I can carry 'em for him. Also, extra oxygen tanks and insulating foil.:_

_:Astrotrain's in orbit?: _Blaster followed the reasoning behind that request easily. Symbionts weren't designed to operate independently in vacuum for long.

_:Yeah. I get dumped out an airlock, I don't fancy having to run on batteries until they boil or freeze solid.:_

Blaster ran a hand over his face. _:How much time do we have?: _

_:Soundwave's snatching me and pulling a runner in 36 hours. Plenty of time for some reasonable mods. We don't want it to look like I was pre-prepared, however. The plan is that I spend most of my time in Soundwave's docking bay because he won't be able to understand Cybertronian without me or Frenzy, so hopefully, I won't need to interact with the 'cons too much.: _

Blaster straightened up. Aloud, he said, "Let's go talk to Wheeljack. I don't think I could recharge now."

Steeljaw smirked without much humor behind it. "Sorry, boss."

"Risky damn mission."

"Yeah. Worth it, though. Even Prowl agrees the cost-benefit analysis falls solidly on our side."

"Heh. Astrotrain's an idiot. What was he thinking, kidnapping _Frenzy _of all mechs?"

"Yes. We know this." Steeljaw smiled brightly. "But I'll still take a couple packs of insulating foil, thanks."

* * *

Soundwave was _frightened_. It was an emotion he rarely felt; in a crisis, he defaulted to cool analysis and quick thinking. Emotions were a mere distraction.

Now, however, he sat alone in his office save for the silent presence of Hot Rod. He didn't need his destroyed telepathic mods to know that Hot Rod felt acutely awkward in his presence. Hot Rod's unease did not help his mood; it made him feel insecure about his long term future.

He wished for Ratchet, but Ratchet was literally up to his elbows in an emergency repair, and so he was alone. It was strange how instantly he had come to rely on the medic's strength and confidence, and how reassuring Ratchet's acceptance and love for him was. Ratchet was his lover, confidante, and completely non-judgemental friend, all rolled into one, and the bond ensured that Soundwave knew that Ratchet spoke nothing but the truth to him.

Primus, he wanted Ratchet right now.

For the moment, Frenzy was calm, if full of justifiably cold anger. Frenzy had a temper, but few realized that his symbiont was so very capable of controlling it. Soundwave had taught him to do so, and those had been some very harsh and necessary lessons. It was better to bide your time and unleash your anger when it was productive than waste the energy with ultimately futile explosions of fury.

When Frenzy released his berserker side, it was with calculated intent and never blind rage.

Frenzy's reputation for being a loose cannon was also carefully constructed. They had all agreed - Soundwave, Frenzy, and his siblings - that it was best if Frenzy and Rumble were underestimated.

So, for the moment, Frenzy was simmering with restrained fury but most likely presenting himself as a scared and submissive symbiont. That ability to act like a coward might help him escape. Astrotrain's mechs would certainly underestimate him. Even those who had worked directly with him, like Swindle, consistently overlooked Frenzy's sharp intelligence and devious cunning. Soundwave liked it that way, and Frenzy was willing enough to play the role of a fool and a thug when he had to.

Soundwave tried to tell himself that Frenzy would be fine. Frenzy knew the players involved, and exactly how to play them to his advantage. They also didn't want him dead. They wanted him alive, to use as leverage to control Soundwave.

Soundwave mused he himself was not the prize that Astrotrain thought that he was. However, if they made the details of his damage known, Astrotrain would not simply release Frenzy. He would be angry, and he would take that anger out on the little mechling.

"Soundwave."

Soundwave managed not to jump, but only barely. His power plant cycled up into a higher gear then, when he identified that the speaker was Killaglitch, immediately idled again. He'd been lost in thought and had not heard Killa enter. That was at least partially because Killa was modified to run quiet, a survival skill for a badlands born mechling, but he still should have sensed the approaching electrical field.

"Do you have a moment to talk in private?"

Hot Rod spoke up, "I'm done here anyway. See ya, mechs."

Killaglitch snorted after the brightly colored young warrior had retreated. "He's scared of you. Is there a story there I should know?"

"He threatened Frenzy," Soundwave explained, absently. "Defenseless, I am not."

"Heh. How badly did you hurt him?"

"No permanent damage. Soundwave, used physical intimidation. Extenuating circumstances involved. Hot Rod not bullying, or maliciousness."

"... I'd have loved to have seen that 'physical intimidation.'" Killaglitch patted Soundwave's knee. "Lift me up. You're so fragging tall, I'm talking to your aft even when you're sitting down."

Soundwave smirked, and lifted the sturdy old mechling up to his desk. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary on Killa's shoulders. There was nothing but platonic interest there, of course, but symbionts and carriers were tactile by nature and what he really desired to do was to pull Killa into his lap, wrap his arms around him, and hold him like he had when they were both younglings. His natural dignity prevailed, however, and he refrained.

"Soundwave, how are you holding up?"

"You know about ...?" Frenzy's kidnapping was classified, under the simple premise that controlling the news might be strategically important.

"Sandflower was pretty upset. She told me all about it." Killaglitch sighed deeply. "Soundwave, she's so young, and anyone who bonds to you will always be in danger, won't they?"

"Soundwave, likely to be potential target very long time."

He needed to talk to Sandflower about the meaning of _operational security_. She was old enough to know to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah, figured. I told her to keep her trap closed about what happened, and not tell anyone else." Killaglitch folded his arms across his chest. "I assume the 'cons took him as a hostage. And I can guess they'll send you in after him because it's the most logical way to handle things, assuming they trust you enough. You'll go anyway, even if they say no. And you're gonna need help getting Frenzy back."

"Steeljaw, going. And Soundwave is trusted."

"... that's a surprise. About Steeljaw, I mean." Killaglitch shuttered his optics in clear confusion. "Is he breaking his bond with Blaster?"

"Negative. Steeljaw and I will not bond. He is loyal to Blaster."

"He's Frenzy's lover, though." Killaglitch tilted his head sideways, clearly trying to puzzle out the social aspects. "Blaster's cool with it?"

"Blaster, trusts Steeljaw. Steeljaw, has worked with me before. We are friends."

"Ah, I see." Killaglitch reached out and put a small hand on Soundwave's arm. "Song, I know you've been through a tough time recently and it's awfully soon after you lost your symbionts, but I wanted to offer ... even if Steeljaw's going, you'd be better off with _more _help. If you want to bond ... well, shortest courtship ever, but I'm proposing. I love you as a brother and I'd like to love you as a master too."

Soundwave blinked at him from behind his visor. Now he did indulge in his desire to embrace the little one. He pulled Killaglitch to his chest, up against the clear slice of Praxillite crystal that protected his docking bays. He could feel the warmth and hum of Killa's spark close to his own, even through many layers of armor and internal systems. For a moment, a long moment, he was very tempted.

He pressed a kiss to Killa's helm. "Not a negative, but not _now_. Approval needed, Frenzy, Ratchet."

Killa said quietly, "They'd be fine with it. I'm sure of it. And you're not _bonded _to Ratchet."

"Rudeness, to assume they would be approving. I know you. They do not." He didn't correct Killaglitch's assumption regarding his lover; even though he would trust Killa with his life, he knew that his relationship with Ratchet needed to remain classified.

"But I could help save Frenzy's life!"

"Other issues. Killa, lacks security clearance. Lacks combat experience ..."

Killaglitch made a scoffing noise. "C'mon, you _know _my aim with a rifle was better than anyone else in the clan and it's only gotten better over the years!"

"... difference, hunting versus fighting very big." He stroked Killaglitch's back, trying to take the sting of the rejection away. "You avoided war. Frenzy, Steeljaw, myself, we have fought for thousands of multitudes of vorns. Your choice, valid, but you do not have skills I need now."

"I can handle myself!"

Soundwave nodded. "Perhaps. You also have daughter, mate, you are leader of symbiont community. Your value, better here. When I return ... we will talk again. Killaglitch is loved by Soundwave. Offer to bond, accepted. Just not _now_. And not without all in agreement."

"And what if something happens to you?" Killaglitch demanded. "What if I could have prevented it if I was there?"

"If something happens to Soundwave," Soundwave said very gravely, "Killa ... will speak for me, for my wishes? This, you can do for me."

Killaglitch blinked at him, obviously confused.

Soundwave elaborated, choosing his words carefully, "I need someone to make decisions for me, if I am hurt or otherwise unable to speak for myself. It is unfair to ask Frenzy to make decisions about my fate, and Ratchet is my lover. He may be compromised if I am injured. I trust you to follow my wishes and make wise choices."

"I ... don't know what to say."

He was frustrated by the time it took him to compose a reply that was unambiguous and grammatically correct. Killaglitch waited patiently, however, until he finished untangling what Frenzy called his 'word salad' into proper English. "I will give you a file with my directives before I go on the mission. If something happens, you are strong and wise. Please, accept this responsibility."

"I ... of course." Killaglitch sighed. "Glit's a medic. I _get _what you're asking. I just think I could help you avoid getting hurt if I could go. And I'm a symbiont. I'm not supposed to make big decisions for my carrier - and I'm gonna hold you to that agreement to court."

"There are no assurances of my safety, regardless of if you go or not." He smiled at Killaglitch, and was glad of his earlier decision to bare his mouth and his expressions to the world when Killaglitch smiled tentatively back. "Do not feel guilt if the outcome is negative. It is my choice to go, and my choice to decline your offer."

Killaglitch nodded. "I'll ... I'll try to remember that."

"And we will court, when I return." Soundwave smiled at him again. "I will welcome you as my symbiont, if my family has no objections."

Killaglitch's face broke into a broad smile that brightened his optics and transformed his worn and battered features so that he looked far younger and more innocent. "_Awesome_. Wait'll I tell Glit - say, you wouldn't be interested in a cyberkitty, too, would you? He's got a _great _resume and I think you'd like him. He's all for me bonding with you, by the way."

"Question, to be answered _later_." Soundwave chuckled. "But, perhaps."

He knew Glit better than Killaglitch seemed to know. The Decepticon defector had been a medic for a very long time. Ravage had viewed Glit with suspicion. Ravage had been a warrior since the day he had been sparked. Glit was a medic, and probably the closest mecha in temperament to Ratchet that the Decepticons had possessed. Ravage's and Glit's personalities had been distinctly incompatible. Soundwave had considered courting him, a very long time ago. Ravage's response had been a very firm _hell no_, and that had been the end of that idea.

Ravage was dead. He didn't get a vote anymore, Soundwave thought with somewhat snarky, if fond, remembered exasperation. And Soundwave liked cybercats.

Killaglitch threw his arms around Soundwave's neck. "Primus, you'd _better _come back or I swear I'll dive into the Well itself after you!"

* * *

"Ya sure you're up to this?" Jazz asked, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.

Soundwave sized up the smaller mech without wasting any movement - or energy - on his own end. He asked, "Training or the mission?"

"The mission." Jazz circled Soundwave, moving with silent and deadly grace. Soundwave turned to follow him, using his staff for balance and watching dispassionately. "Ah know ya've been practicing with Ratch."

"Time to practice, limited." Soundwave let a faint smile touch his bared face plates. Even now, faced with a training match to test his skills, he had chosen to keep his face bare. Among the Autobots, it felt right. They were more friendly towards him when he let them see his expressions.

"Heh. Ya know ah can probably get someone in and get t' get t' runt out. It just won't happen right away. In the meantime, he's in a good position t' feed us intel."

"Risk assessment: Friendly fire high probability."

"Not from _us_." Jazz shook his head. "Not as long as Astrotrain's in low orbit with a nuke in his hold."

"Starscream."

"Heh, yeah, we've asked him to hold off, but he's never been the soul of discretion."

"Plan: We will disable device as a priority." Soundwave tilted his head slightly, watching as Jazz paced back and forth in front of him. "Query: Do you want the core?"

"The uranium? Yeah, ah'm sure Ratch or Skyfire or the other nerdbots could use it for something. We just won't tell Wheeljack it's on base."

"Wise decision."

And then Jazz _moved_, in a swift attack that targeted Soundwave's greatest weakness in a fight - his lack of balance. Jazz tried to sweep Soundwave's feet out from underneath him. Soundwave let himself fall, right on top of the saboteur, with the full kinetic energy of his greater mass transferring to Jazz's smaller frame. Jazz went flat with an _oomph _of air expressed from his partially full fuel tanks, and Soundwave efficiently pinned him.

"Yield!" Jazz said, sounding surprised.

In a real fight, Soundwave suspected that Jazz would have been able to break free. However, Jazz was just testing Soundwave's ability to spar, not trying to harm him.

"Ratch said ya weren't helpless," Jazz said, rolling to his feet and then offering Soundwave a hand up. "Ah'm impressed. Another round?"

"Practice, appreciated." He inclined his head. This time, Jazz used a completely different tactic and, in a quick and efficient flurry of blows and flying kicks, put Soundwave down on the ground. However, Soundwave managed to grab his ankle, twist with surprising agility for his frame type, and swipe a kick at Jazz's midsection from his position on the floor. Jazz leaned back to avoid being dented, Soundwave yanked on his foot simultaneously, and the Autobot officer hit the ground hard.

This time, it was Soundwave who ended up pinned, to his irritation. "Yield."

"When ya come back," Jazz said, sitting up, "you and I are gonna have to spend some time sparrin'. Ya've had some real formal trainin', yeah? Beyond just the usual hand t' hand they teach all the 'cons."

"Affirmative." Soundwave rose. "You have been trained in both circuit-su and metallikato."

Jazz tipped his visor at Soundwave in acknowledgment. "That'd be Prowl's influence. Lots of scrappin' on the streets in there, too. I don't recognize your school an' it's not in yer file."

"Vosian Battle-dancing," Soundwave said.

"Bit modified for a grounder, then?" Jazz's visor lit with comprehension. "And, uh, the wrestlin' moves ain't Vosian, fer sure."

"Soundwave, has thrusters," Soundwave pointed out. "However, complete mastery impossible due to frame type. Concessions were made in my training. Soundwave, has advantage on the ground over most Seekers."

"Huh." Jazz scrambled to his feet, hooked Soundwave's cane with his toe, and tossed it to the mech with his foot. Soundwave caught it out of the air easily. "Whatever possessed you to learn Vosian battle-dancing?"

"They said I couldn't do it." Soundwave flashed Jazz a very quick smile.

Jazz threw his head back and laughed. "Soundwave, m'man, that's the best reason _ever_. C'mon, let's get some fuel before your lover gets off shift. Ah _have _t' hear the whole story here."

* * *

Frenzy sat sullenly in his cell, far more pissed than scared, and silently added nasty subroutine after subroutine to a particularly evil virus that he was writing in a securely firewalled sector of his processor. He might not have the fastest clock speed, but he'd been trained by _Soundwave_. Given time, he could program as well as any mech alive. It just took him longer to produce the same results.

The sound of footsteps jerked him back to awareness. He rose, fists balling, and acutely missing his pile drivers. They'd constructed a cell for him in Astrotrain's small cargo hold, and the approaching mech stomped down the ramp and approached the cell with a sour expression that matched Frenzy's own mood. He had a half-full symbiont sized cube of sludgy, off-color energon in one hand.

"Hi, asshole," Frenzy said, faking cheer, and using the human insult simply for the variety.

Swindle glowered at him. "Your master coming?"

"You think he won't?"

Swindle's dark look grew even more glowering. "A bond doesn't mean you're buddy-buddy with your bond mates."

"Yeah, I understand _your _brothers have reason to hate you," Frenzy said, with a nasty sneer back.

"Watch it, runt ... your boss gonna be willing to cooperate?"

Frenzy shrugged. "He's Soundwave. You offer him a good enough deal, maybe. Yeah, you pissed 'im off by messing with what's his," he hooked a thumb at his chest, "but he's _logical._"

"Huh." Swindle deliberately took a sip from the cube of energon, which wasn't all that large to begin with.

Frenzy's tanks were low enough to light a few early warnings in his HUD, but he smirked. "You should see the damage that fuel does to your internals."

"Got nothing better." Swindle finished the cube, which Frenzy suspected had been meant for him. It was just like Swindle to consume a prisoner's rations out of spite.

"Autobots do." Frenzy boasted. "Pit, they got more than they know what to do with. They're sharing it with Starscream, too. You should see - and smell - the sludge we've been cleaning out of Starscream's troop's tanks."

Swindle crushed the cube in one hand. The shards tinkled to the floor. If Astrotrain noticed the mess there would be Pit to pay, but Swindle could always blame it on Frenzy. Frenzy knew from past experience that Astrotrain didn't monitor his internal cameras very often or very thoroughly.

"And Astrotrain thinks he can get Soundwave to side with us." Swindle spun angrily on one heel and stalked back towards the ramp. "Pit-slagging _idiot_."

Frenzy quietly smiled to himself, well pleased with the game he was playing. Sowing dissent and creating chaos could only help them in the long run.

* * *

Ratchet entered the rec room, following the warm thread that led to his bondmate's spark. It was so very odd to always have the awareness of _another _in your mind, but not unpleasant. Soundwave was so steady and solid, so reliable, that Ratchet felt as if his own spark had been given a new, rock solid, foundation.

He was a little surprised to find out who Soundwave was dining with. He'd expected Steeljaw, and perhaps Killaglitch. However, while Killaglitch was seated crosslegged on the table at Soundwave's elbow, Steeljaw was nowhere in sight. Instead, Soundwave was consuming his evening ration with Jazz, Prowl, Starscream, Thundercracker, Prime, Bumblebee, and Skyfire.

_:Keeping him distracted?: _He asked Jazz, with a tight smile at the bots' unofficial morale officer.

Jazz nodded, expression unexpectedly serious. _:Yeah. Soundwave's about as sane and mentally steady as they come, but even he's got to be worried about the kid. I figured we could keep him busy until we're ready for him to, ah, defect back to the dark side.:_

_:Hnh. Thank you.:_

_:Don't thank me. Ah'm doin' it for him, not ya.: _Jazz flashed him a grin. _:Ah think ah'm starting to like the mech, Primus help me.: _

The rec was otherwise sparsely populated - Mirage was off in a corner by himself, Wheeljack and Sideswipe had their heads bent together over a diagram of a jet pack, and Sunstreaker was sketching something. Hound, who'd spent two days straight in the field, had fallen into recharge across the table from Sunstreaker.

Ratchet expected that the object of Sunstreaker's drawing was the slumbering Hound. However, as he walked past, he realized that the frontliner was drawing the table of mechs with Soundwave. He supposed the gathering was unusual, even historic, by the standards of a very long war.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join?" Ratchet inquired aloud, as he grabbed a chair from a neighboring table. Soundwave, mouth bare to the world, flashed him a very brief but welcoming smile. Skyfire and Prime both scooted their chairs sideways so he could fit between the tall shuttle and Soundwave.

"Finally done, doc?" Jazz asked, aloud.

"My work is never done." Ratchet rolled his optics, and addressed the head of the Decepticons. "Starscream, I think I had less work _before _the treaty. Your mechs are a mess. I'm running out of filters!"

"Yes." Starscream agreed. "I am ... grateful ... that you detected the corrosion in Dirge's fuel tank in time."

Ratchet grunted. "Just doing my job."

"A job which took you most of the day, and well past the end of your shift, if I am not mistaken." Starscream persisted. "You could have had your subordinates do the work ..."

Soundwave spoke up, "Procedure, complicated. Ratchet, best qualified. Starscream, query: see benefit in alliance?"

"Damn, he likes to come to the point," Jazz said, with a laugh.

"That's Soundwave for you." Starscream waved a hand dismissively. Ratchet noted that Starscream didn't answer the question; instead, he turned to the medic and said, "I hope you've got thick plating. Soundwave has a remarkable talent for being ... blunt."

"A talent we share," Ratchet said, with a grin. "It really does make a relationship much simpler."

Starscream turned to the others. He rolled his optics. "How much you want to bet they'll be at each other's throats within a vorn?"

Prime smiled. "I highly doubt it."

"Anticipated friction with Ratchet, minimal," Soundwave said, mildly.

"This _is _Ratchet we're talking about, right?" Bumblebee said, teasingly. He addressed Ratchet directly, "You know, maybe Soundwave doesn't know you as well as he thinks he does."

"I'll have you know ..." Ratchet started to respond with an indignant protest.

"Eh, the docbot's too busy fragging him to fight with him," Jazz said, with a smirk.

"Hey!" Ratchet protested on general principles.

"He might be right," Starscream said, in a conspiratorial stage whisper to Soundwave. "Is what they say about medics and berth skills true?"

Soundwave lifted an optic ridge behind his visor. "I have no complaints."

Jazz snickered. "And ah can't complain about his lack of complaints. Anything that makes 'Ratch easier to work with ..."

"I'll remember that comment," Ratchet glowered at Jazz.

"No, you _resemble _that comment," Bumblebee put in, with a cheeky grin.

"Why did I even bother joining you mecha if this is the treatment I get?" Ratchet growled.

Soundwave said, serenely, "Because, Soundwave present."

"Oh, don't _you _start." Ratchet facepalmed. Even his bondmate was picking on him.

In confusion, Starscream said, "Start what?"

Ratchet looked back up at the seeker. "You really don't understand Soundwave at all, do you?"

"Does anyone?" The seeker retorted.

Wordlessly, and with perfect synchronization, every Autobot at the table pointed at Ratchet. Prime then added, "With multiple meanings of the word _understand_. Despite their many and vast differences, Ratchet and Soundwave have become quite close. Do not underestimate the strength of their relationship. While we may tease them in jest, we should not belittle their love for one another."

The table fell silent for a moment, then Starscream snickered. With a significant glance at Skyfire, he said, "Whatever. Love is _so _overrated, anyway."

Skyfire had not said anything so far, but now even his fans stilled. He was completely motionless, and Ratchet wondered why he was even at the table. More than a few of the Autobots, and Thundercracker, glanced at him with alarm.

Prime said, "Skyfire, I believe you have late shift covering the med bay tonight, do you not?"

"Yes sir," the shuttle rose, looming over the table, then silently turned and left. Ratchet shot Prime a relieved glance. Skyfire's shift didn't actually start for an hour, but Optimus had provided the mech a graceful escape.

Optimus turned cold, angry eyes on Starscream. "Starscream. You will _curb your tongue _around Skyfire. He is my advisor and an oathsworn Autobot, as well as a personal friend. I will _not _tolerate any further attempts to upset him."

Starscream's optics widened. Clearly, Starscream hadn't been aware that Skyfire had recently become part of Optimus's very small inner circle of confidants. "What are you talking about?"

Prime ran a hand over his face. "Don't, Starscream."

Starscream opened his mouth, shut it, then reopened it. Ratchet cringed, expecting biting words, but Starscream huffed a sigh. "I'll apologize. I was ... out of line."

"Yes. You were. This was a civil and friendly gathering until you chose - and it was a choice _you _made - to change the tone." Prime's tone held sharp censor.

"I apologize to all of you." Starscream started to rise. "I'll find Skyfire now."

"No." Optimus's tone of voice was one no one, not even Starscream, would argue with. "Send it to him in writing. Leave him alone, otherwise, unless he wishes to speak to you."

Starscream huffed. "Fine. But you _know _there's history between us."

"I am aware." Optimus rose. "Now, I believe we have some reports to review. Starscream, Thundercracker, Jazz, Prowl, I could use your input. Let us move to a secured conference room."

After they left - and Bee had also departed, saying something about a poker night with the Witwickys - Ratchet found himself alone with Soundwave and Killaglitch. Killa unexpectedly commed Ratchet to comment, _:Pit, that's a nasty mech.:_

_:Who, Starscream? He's complex, to say the least. Prime has a good handle on him, but let me know if you have any problems from him or his mechs.:_

_:I will.: _

Soundwave stroked a hand down Killaglitch's back, and Killa leaned into the touch. Ratchet watched the exchange with a smile. "So, you two are courting?"

"Ratchet's approval, necessary," Soundwave said, voice turned down to its lowest volume.

Ratchet glanced up at Soundwave. "I won't stop you from something that important. And you like him and you have a history together."

"Good to know." Killaglitch reached out and rested a small hand on Ratchet's arm. "Ratchet, you're important to Soundwave too. I wouldn't ever do anything to come between you. I want you to know that."

"You know, I really _hate _mushy stuff," Ratchet glowered at the symbiont.

Killaglitch's grin was unrepentant. "I can see we're going to get along _wonderfully_."

* * *

Optimus was exhausted after several hours of talks with the Decepticons. While considerable progress had been made towards a final treaty, dealing with Starscream was mentally taxing on the best of days. All he _really _wanted to do was return to his quarters and crawl into his berth.

He was beginning to think that Megatron's notorious ill temper had a one-word explanation: Seeker. The mech could go from pleasant and professional to poisonous in the space of a klick, then immediately turn flirtatious as if he hadn't just said said something mean enough to singe someone's spark.

Even Optimus, who prided himself on his tolerance and patience, was beginning to second guess his decision to ally with the Air Commander. Starscream was like a force of nature. If he didn't know better, Optimus would have sworn that Starscream was an aspect of Unicron, the chaos bringer, himself. He certainly knew how to devastate even the kindest and most noble mech's spark with a few razor sharp words.

Optimus hesitated at the junction of two hallways. Turn right, and he could go to his quarters. Turn left, and ... there was a mech who probably needed a friend, not a Prime. A mech who didn't have many friends among the Autobots, and who was not gregarious or social by nature. Jazz would probably have a few words with him in the morning, Jazz being Jazz, but Optimus knew that Jazz didn't click very well with Skyfire. They were just too different.

At his very core, Optimus was a compassionate mech. He simply couldn't leave Skyfire alone without knowing that he was alright. _:Teletraan, is Skyfire still awake?: _he asked the AI.

_:Affirmative. He is alone in his quarters.:_

That was what Optimus had expected.

_:Is he sober?: _Skyfire was known to drink small amounts of flavored high grade when alone, though not to the point of intoxication. Still, it was wise to ask.

_:I do not detect any high grade fumes emanating from his quarters.:_

Good enough. Optimus sighed and turned left, down the broad and high corridor that led to the quarters meant for the base's largest mechs. He passed Silverbolt's room, and then door to the combined quarters for all the dinobots before reaching Skyfire's room. Politely, he pinged the mech and waited for a response.

_:Prime, sir?: _Skyfire said, sounding shocked. _:Is something wrong?:_

_:May I come in?:_

_:Yeah, sure.: _He heard a rapid shuffling and a few metallic thunks - likely the sound of Skyfire hurriedly hiding clutter and any small messes - and then the door slid open. "Can I help you?"

Optimus stepped into the room. Skyfire's quarters were spartan, with few personal possessions. A potted cactus grew in a bowl with a few Praxian crystals. Two cubes of shimmering, violently pink, high grade also sat on a shelf, untouched. Optimus recognized the exact hue of Sideswipe's very best home brew, which was very good indeed. Clearly, Skyfire was not concerned about Prime seeing his stash of technically-illegal high grade. Whatever he'd hidden had not been the booze.

Skyfire was new, having been with them only a few years, and his first few months he'd tried hard to be the perfect soldier. He'd followed every regulation with efficient precision. Recently, he'd started to relax a bit, and Optimus was glad to see that. Skyfire had good judgement and if he was figuring out which rules were _important _and which regulations the command staff overlooked, it meant he was settling in and feeling more comfortable in his position as an Autobot.

Optimus really didn't worry if his soldiers drank, as long as it was off duty, not to excess, it didn't result in brawling, and it was not during times of high alert. He chose his battles, and that was not one he could ever win. Skyfire's drinking habits didn't worry him in the slightest.

Prime was known to indulge himself, anyway, on the right occasion.

Aside from the high grade and the Praxian crystal garden there was a hot plate for warming energon, four cut crystal drinking cubes, a crystal bowl that Optimus suspected was for Steeljaw (who occasionally hung out with the science staff - Steeljaw was friends with _everyone_), and small jars containing flavored additives. There was also a sound system with decent speakers on a shelf, and a Cybertronian instrumental piece was playing very softly on it.

The only furnishings were two chairs sized for large mecha, an equally proportioned dining table, two medium sized chairs, and Skyfire's oversized berth. He wondered, briefly, what Skyfire had shoved under his berth, since that was the only hiding place in the room.

He then realized could smell solder and hot metal. Skyfire, he concluded, must have been working on a project that he'd hastily hidden. It was against regulations to work in one's quarters, though that rule primarily applied to Wheeljack. Skyfire might not have picked up _that _nuance of unspoken Ark rules and had hastily hidden an after-hours project from his Prime. Alternately, he could be working on something secret of another nature- most likely, Prime thought, a prank. Skyfire had recently fallen victim to a bit of hazing related to his status as a relatively new mech on the Ark, and Optimus was well aware that Jazz's unofficial advice to Skyfire had been to retaliate in kind.

It didn't really matter what he'd hidden, Optimus decided. He trusted Skyfire implicitly, despite his newness to the Autobots. The Matrix _adored _the shuttle, and sometimes Prime wondered if the ancient semi-sentient artifact wasn't considering Skyfire as a possible future Prime.

"I ..." Prime hesitated, unaccountably at a loss for words. There were so many thoughts in his head about the shuttle. He sighed, and came right to the point regarding his specific reason for this visit. "Starscream said some unkind things to you. I felt that I should apologize for subjecting you to his venom."

"_Not _the first time, Prime." Skyfire vented a matching sigh. "And it's hardly your responsibility."

"Nevertheless, he is here at the base by my permission - and was at the table earlier by my invitation, as well."

"You were all attempting to distract Soundwave," Skyfire said, a smile touching his lips. "Well, most of you. Starscream was just there because he's Starscream, and I was there because I was worried he'd say rude things to Soundwave and I hoped I would make a more tempting target. Soundwave doesn't need to hear it from Starscream, right now. Trust me, I know how vicious and sneaky he can be - I know him better than most."

"You knew him." Optimus shook his head. "The war has damaged us all, and Starscream more than most."

Skyfire's mouth twisted into a hard, and uncharacteristically bitter, line. "Yes."

"You have every right to be angry at him." Optimus looked up at Skyfire, meeting his suddenly hard gaze. "You are not wrong to feel betrayed by him. What he did to you, after he dug you out of the ice, was _wrong_."

Skyfire blew out an angry vent. "I just don't want anything to do with him. I can be polite and professional in public, but he's unwilling to return the courtesy. It makes me furious. I don't like being this way- in case you haven't noticed, I'm a large mech and it makes people nervous when I lose my temper."

"You have a perfect right to be angry, but I appreciate your discretion." Optimus, also a large mech, reflected he was a lot less cautious about displaying his anger. Skyfire was possibly too sensitive about what others thought, and had too little sense of his own self worth. There were times when a display of anger was wholly justifiable and appropriate!

He'd never seen Skyfire in this sort of mood before. The big shuttle was usually friendly to a fault, with a good nature and an even disposition that made him consistently pleasant to work with. Radiating wounded anger, as he was now, Optimus found him surprisingly formidable. Skyfire wasn't wrong about how threatening he appeared when he was mad. Though they massed about the same, Skyfire's wings and height made him appear a good bit bigger than he really was.

Skyfire folded his arms across his chest. "I suppose I should mention that Starscream tested my patience on the best of days _before _the war, when I was actually in love with him, and there is little I find attractive about him now. I will be polite, in the interest of peace between our factions and an end to this damnable war, but I will _never _call him 'friend' again. And if he cannot return the favor I may have difficulty remaining _polite_. You may wish to have someone speak to him before I see him again."

Or, Optimus thought, perhaps Skyfire just had more patience than he possessed. There was ringing conviction of his own self-worth in his words now.

"Skyfire, I must apologize. I came here to offer you a few placating words and to try to convince you to tolerate Starscream's behavior for the good of our people - but you are correct. Starscream has no right to treat you badly. I _will _have a discussion with him on this issue. If he cannot control his words around you, it is proof he is not taking this peace seriously. I believe he cooperate. He's been ... surprisingly reasonable ... for Starscream."

"Prime." Skyfire's voice dropped in volume and pitch as he asked very softly, "Are you attracted to him?"

Optimus looked up sharply, guilt crossing his features. He admitted, with a short laugh, "I always have been. Even before the war. I am trying very hard to keep my personal feelings from affecting my decisions, however, insofar as the peace process goes. I am only a mech, Skyfire, and he is very good looking."

"He is quite attractive," Skyfire conceded, with a smile. "But I would advise against a relationship with him. Speaking from experience."

"I have no intentions of acting on my attraction." Optimus ran a hand over his optics. His voice was wry now. "I am not so foolish. He would not be sincere or honest in a relationship with me. It would be entirely for his own gain. Just as minding his manners will _also _be only for his own gain, not out of any actual care for your feelings. - Not to say you were foolish when you were his lover, of course. He was a different mech, then."

Skyfire snorted. "Oh, he hasn't changed _that _much, and I think you know it. Personal gain was the only reason Starscream befriended me, all those eons ago. I already had a grant for interstellar exploration, and had the backing of the Iacon science council. Starscream, however brilliant, was a Seeker and the Iaconian academia never did take him seriously. He's more intelligent and a better engineer than I will ever be, but they never saw that. They _were _aware of his tendencies towards ... self glorification, shall we say, and that hurt his prospects, as well. Partnering with me, both professionally and personally, was to his advantage."

"He does care about you, you know. He was _not _purely using you. I spoke to him, when he returned after you were lost on Earth, and I could tell he was truly grieving and distraught."

Skyfire waved a hand dismissively in the air. "Oh, certainly. He's not a complete drone. But I'd daresay _you _love me more than he does, and with you it's just the love of a Prime for his people. You love all of us alike, and sometimes more than you should."

Optimus sucked in a sharp invent, and looked up at Skyfire. His blue optics softened and he asked quietly, "Is that what you truly believe?"

"You can't." Skyfire shook his head, denying the implication of Optimus's words. "You have to treat all of us alike."

Optimus folded his arms across his chest and crossed the room in a few long strides. He stared at the potted cactus - a large barrel cactus, _ferocactus wislizeni_ - surrounded by Praxian crystals. Skyfire was silent, motionless, behind him.

"I am allowed to have friends, Skyfire," Optimus said, unable to keep a little annoyance out of his voice. "Yes, I love all Cybertronians. I am reasonably sure that is one of the criteria for being a Prime. However, that does not mean I cannot have personal friends, and I'd like to think you are one of them. It is why I chose to come here tonight. I am your _friend _and I knew you were in distress after what Starscream chose to say to you. I am not here in any official capacity. If I simply felt you needed a counselor, and not a friend, I could have had someone else stop in to talk to you. "

Skyfire's heavy footfalls announced his approach behind OPtimus. A large hand, bigger even than Optimus's, rested gingerly on Optimus's shoulder. "I did not mean to offend you."

"You didn't." Optimus couldn't look at him. His words had been more barbed than he had intended, and now he felt shame.

Skyfire removed his hand almost as quickly as he'd placed it there. Optimus turned, and the big shuttle was shifting awkwardly in place while staring at his own fingers. "Sorry," Skyfire said.

"You did _not _offend me." Optimus repeated.

"Not that ... I ..." Skyfire made a fist with the hand that had touched Optimus. "I think I overstepped some boundaries there, and you're too nice to call me on it."

Optimus blinked in confusion, then when Skyfire's meaning dawned on him, he said gravely, "If I objected to your touch, I would have said so."

Silence fell between them, awkward and clumsy. Optimus felt a lot more like a very young Orion Pax in this moment than he did the Primus-chosen leader of Cybertron. Skyfire's optics, a few shades lighter than Optimus's, searched his expression questioningly. Then Skyfire turned away, movement almost violent. He said savagely. "You are the _Prime_."

Optimus recognized the reaction for what it was: denial of hope. He felt a _possibility _in his own spark, and the Matrix whispered serene agreement and encouragement. It was, however, very much Orion and not Cybertron's leader who said with a sigh, "A title I sometimes wish to forget. I am mortal, Skyfire. And I am free to pursue my desires - if I so choose. And if my interest is reciprocated."

Skyfire's backstruts straightened.

"I have very few friends who know me as a mech, not a living representative of Primus." Optimus started to reach out towards Skyfire's stiff frame, then balled his fist up and let his hand drop. The mech was _hurting. _It wasn't the right time. But oh how he wanted to _touch_.

"Ratchet. Jazz. Prowl." Skyfire said, quietly, listing off the names of those he knew to belong to Prime's inner circle. "Ultra Magnus. Elita. Ironhide. But why _me_?"

"There are a few others I would consider close friends, but you are very perceptive." Optimus, as a mech, had no idea how to answer Skyfire's question. For a moment, he felt awkward and uneasy.

The Matrix stirred. The wisdom of scores of Primes before him warmed his spark. Images passed before his optics of a nearly infinite number of lovers, partners, friends, belong both to those ancient Primes and witnessed through their optics.

Quietly, voice gentle now, Optimus asked, "Do you ... desire me, as a mech?"

Skyfire spun about, surprisingly agile despite his towering height. Embarrassment was clear in his posture and the set of his strong jaw. "You are the _Prime_."

"I am aware of my title," Optimus chuckled softly. The answer to his question was clear in the guilt in Skyfire's expression, and the defensive tone of his answer. Oh, yes, Skyfire wanted him. It was clear to Optimus that he also thought that his desire was wrong, forbidden, and unrequited. He had Optimus way up high on a pedestal, one far too high for a lowly junior officer and science geek to ever touch.

"You loved Starscream," Optimus said, voice still gentle. "You _loved _him. However, he did not treat you well. Despite everything you tried, despite all the time and energy and effort you put into the relationship, he did not truly reciprocate your feelings in kind. In time, you came to realize this. And yet you hoped that if you just tried a little harder, loved him a little more, he would change. In the end, you realized he would never truly love you, and this made you feel unlovable. Am I close to correct?"

Skyfire shuttered his optics and tilted his face towards the ceiling. "Primus, yes. I tried _so hard _and for _so long_ and he was just using me ... it felt like _I _was the crazy one, the broken one."

Optimus reached out now, fingers brushing Skyfire's arm. He had to reach up and a tiny part of his processor noted how unusual it was for a mech to be taller than he was. He said quietly, "With Starscream, I believe something is fundamentally damaged either within his spark or with the very core of his base coding. He is _not capable _of truly empathizing with another, or caring for someone else more than he loves himself. He does care, but not the way most mecha do. He sees others through a filter of what they are worth to him, and how they benefit him." The tall shuttle looked down at Optimus now. His optics were dim with grief. "I know. But I thought if I tried hard enough, I could change him. He wasn't evil, not then, perhaps not even now, and I had so much hope that with time enough I could prove myself to him. And then he would love me as I loved him."

"Starscream, unfortunately, is what he is." Prime could not keep the real sadness from his voice. "I am doing what I can to settle his spark and grant him some degree of stability. The kind of damage he has is generally caused by early childhood trauma, if it is not a processor defect."

"From what his Thundercracker and his creators have told me ... I would guess it is a processor defect exacerbated by maltreatment as a sparkling. He's apparently always been a manipulative glitch who only faked caring for others from a very early age, but he was also badly bullied as a sparkling. I suspect the other children sensed he was different, and rejected him. I realized how damaged he was the first time we merged, but I thought I could help him. He lived for those merges, because he reveled in the love he felt from me ... but he never reciprocated. He _liked _being my lover, but it was always selfish on his end. However, he's not evil. It was as if we weren't even speaking the same language."

Optimus nodded slowly. "No. He's not evil. I wouldn't want to be his lover - and I commend you for trying so hard to help him - but he's not evil. Not really. He's _damaged_."

Skyfire snorted. "You know, mecha think Soundwave's crippled. But I think Starscream's got it worse. He will never know what it's truly like to love another. He knows what it's like to _be _loved unconditionally, because I gave him that, but he'll never know the joy of complete trust and love in _another_. He's always worried about what others think of him, or how to manipulate or charm them into doing something for him. He puts _so much _effort into pleasing his superiors, only to backstab them without hesitation, if he thinks it's to his benefit. And he's miserable, nearly all the time. He's always anxious, always worried, always watching his back for others to betray _him_. He doesn't realize, not truly, that other mecha don't think the way he does. He'll never truly trust anyone, not even his own trine. Not even ... not even me. Not even after we merged a hundred times did he trust that I wouldn't betray him. It didn't help that, when he failed to come to trust me, he could sense I was distressed and unhappy, and he knew I would eventually reject him. He craved love, almost like it was a drug."

"He hurt you." Optimus said, voice soft again.

Skyfire snorted, an inelegant sound. "He hurts everyone around him, eventually."

"He hurt _you_." Optimus's hand gripped Skyfire's arm with a little more strength. "Skyfire, look at me. You _know _why Starscream hurt you, and you know you aren't at fault. It was his problem, not yours. That you tried so hard to teach him what love was, even when I'm certain you knew your love was not reciprocated, says a great deal about your character. You, my friend, are empathetic, forgiving, and deeply caring."

"Didn't do me much good in the end," Skyfire noted. He met Optimus's gaze, and shifted a little uneasily. His plating was clamped tight to his heavy frame. "Prime ... thank you, for talking to me about this. I didn't think anyone else understood."

Optimus smiled gently. "I understand a great deal more than most believe, including the answer to my question."

"Your question ... oh!" Skyfire took a step back when he remembered that the Prime had asked him if he _desired _him. "Um, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Optimus's smile grew just slightly mischievous. "Skyfire, I'm mortal, and anyone who knows me as a mech knows I am attracted to winged mecha. This is particularly true when the spark between those wings is one I wouldn't mind getting to know better. Starscream is attractive. _You _are someone whose spark calls to mine."

"Umm." Skyfire took another step back. The back of his legs bumped into the table.

"I don't believe I am misreading your interest." Optimus's smile slipped from his face at Skyfire's obvious distress. "But if you do not wish to reciprocate ... I understand this. There are many valid reasons for you to tell me 'no' even if you return my interest. I will be more than content to simply be your friend. It is ... pleasant ... to spend time with another scholar. We have more in common than I believe you realize, and all my other friends, as much as I love them, are warriors at spark."

"You were a historian. An archivist." Skyfire blinked, recalling that bit of trivia. "Before ... before the war."

"I would have been happy to spend the rest of my existence within the stacks of the libraries of Iacon," Optimus confirmed, "had not a revolution interfered with that contented existence. We met, a few times, when you needed data from the archives, though I am not certain you remember me. You were distinctive enough that I have never forgotten you. I found you attractive even then, but you were taken and even if you were not, I was very shy as a young mech. Also, Orion was _smaller_, and often went unnoticed."

"I don't remember," Skyfire confessed, then his brows pinched together as a memory that felt only a few years old due to his eons in the ice surfaced. "Wait. You were the research assistant from Iacon for Ratchet's senatorial campaign. Your colors are the same, and features. Primus, you were so _young _then. I remember, now that I think about it. Oh my ..."

Optimus watched, a bit surprised that Skyfire remembered at all, for he had been Orion then, with half the mass and a head and shoulders shorter than he was now, and with an insignificant role as Ratchet's researcher.

Skyfire, however, clearly did remember him. He added, somewhat to Optimus's bemusement, "Oh, Primus! Starscream hung out with you, uh, flirted with you, to try to find out information about Ratchet's campaign for Megatron. You were _furious _when you realized what he was up to - he replayed a recording of you scolding him to us. He thought you were hilariously naive. Shy my _aft_, Optimus!"

Optimus laughed, amused, even as Skyfire's mouth shut abruptly after his outburst. The big mech as still so unsure around him. "Oh, I had a temper. I always have, always will. It took a lot of courage for me to respond in kind to what I thought were genuine advances from Starscream, and I was truly angry when I realized what his game was. I've since forgiven him, but at the time, I would have wrung his neck if I could have caught him."

Optimus wondered what sort of first impression that scene had made on Skyfire. He had lost his temper and given Starscream a piece of his mind, in full volume, but also in the privacy of his quarters. He wasn't aware that Starscream had shared the memory with anyone, and in any case, he had been Orion at the time.

"That was a very long time ago, before I was Prime. I was very young, and I was naive. When I found out he was in a committed relationship with you, and that he was using me for intelligence, he's lucky all I did was shout at him." Ruefully, Optimus ran a hand over the communication antenna and sensory fins on the top of his head. "I was never cut out for politics. The Matrix chose me because a war was brewing and it wanted someone with a fighting spirit and a sense of justice and honor more than it desired a politician or diplomat."

Skyfire laughed genuinely. Daring to tease Optimus a bit, he said, "You? A temper? I would never believe that."

The Prime's hesitant smile turned into a real grin. "I am, as I noted, mortal. Ratchet, believe it or not, was the one who talked me down after that fiasco with Starscream. I wanted to kick Starscream's aft from one end of Iacon to the other. Ratchet pointed out that espionage was all part of the political game at the time, and convinced me to use Starscream's behavior as a learning experience. Now, after all these years, I can laugh about it - and Ratchet certainly doesn't let me forget it - though there are very few other mecha who know the whole story of how Starscream and I met. Now you're one of them."

Skyfire rolled his optics. "And yet you're willing to work with him."

Optimus's laughter was low, but amused. "You can't say he's not predictable. And working with him doesn't mean I have to _bed _him. He is important to the peace process."

"Unfortunately, I know you are right. Does that mean I can't kill him if he pisses me off?" The normally gentle pacifist asked, with a slightly malicious tone, brows crinkling together, mouth setting into a hard line.

"I'll make you a deal. I won't kill him if you won't." Optimus sounded completely serious but there was a playful twinkle in his optics that Skyfire had never seen before.

Skyfire's mock-evil expression vanished with a bubble of laughter. Then he sobered, just as swiftly, and he studied Optimus keenly. Slowly, hesitantly he took a step towards the Prime.

Optimus opened his arms and Skyfire embraced him. Optimus was quick to hug others, but few hugged _him_. It felt awkward, and wonderful, all at the same time. Skyfire was strong, tall, and empathetic.

Skyfire said, "You're a good mech, Optimus."

"Part of the job description."

"I ... you asked if I desire you. I do, Optimus, but I want to take things slowly."

"I have no desire to move swiftly myself." Optimus rested his head against Skyfire's solid shoulder, then stepped back. Skyfire's hand rested on his arm. "Just knowing you see me as more than just an avatar of Primus is enough, for now. I am a _mech_, Skyfire."

Skyfire transferred his hand to cup Optimus's cheek. The big shuttle smiled shyly, and Optimus returned the smile very briefly. "You have the kindest spark, Optimus, and I think that was true even before the Matrix chose you."

Optimus shuttered his optics. "Thank you."

"And ... thank _you_. For coming tonight." Skyfire withdrew his hand. Optimus regretted the loss immediately. The side of his face felt cold, now that Skyfire's touch was gone. Skyfire said. "I ... feel better. I didn't think anyone else understood about Starscream, _particularly _you. I was afraid you were going to become involved with him."

Optimus shook his head. "I am not attracted to him, except for admiration of his frame type. I wish to help him, but he doesn't need me as a lover. I am not sure his damage could be repaired without edits to his code, at any rate, and he would need to consent to that sort of work."

"He'd _never _agree."

"No, he wouldn't." Optimus said, with resignation. "And ... he is functional as he is, even though he is profoundly unhappy. I will do what I can to mitigate his frustration and anger and build his confidence, but I don't believe he'll ever be without anxiety or misplaced fear because he does not understand the feelings of others."

"Prime," Skyfire said, "_Could _edits to his code help him?"

"That would be a good question for Ratchet, or even Jazz or Smokescreen, but I believe yes." Optimus's mouth turned down in a frown. "Unfortunately, it would need to be his choice."

"And he'd be more likely to play catch with scraplets than let someone inside his processor," Skyfire sighed heavily. "Prime ... thank you for coming to talk to me. It helps to know I'm not alone or crazy when it comes to dealing with Starscream."

Optimus nodded gravely. "He does have a way of making you question your sanity."

"Pit yeah. There were times when I wondered if _I _was the crazy one, not him."

Optimus reached out and rested a hand on Skyfire's arm. "I'll let you rest now. But if you need to talk later, my door is always open, my friend."

After he'd stepped back out into the hall, Optimus twisted back to look at Skyfire's closed door. That had gone ... differently ... than he generally expected. He was used to being the wise leader, counselor, and Cybertronian equivalent of clergy. Even among his friends, he was their leader, without question, benevolent though that leadership was. Talking to Skyfire had felt like speaking to an equal, not to a subordinate. It was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant.

_This war needs to end_, Optimus thought, with weary exhaustion that seemed to be strut deep and all-encompassing. _I want to be able to pursue my own desires, someday. _


End file.
